ORATIONS AND SPEECHES. 



BY 



CHARLES SUMNER 



VENIET FORTASSE ALIUD TEMPUS, DIGNIUS NOSTRO, Q.UO, DEBELLATIS 
onus, VERITAS TRIUMPHABIT. HOC MECUM OPTA, LECTOR, ET VALE. 

Leibnitz. 



IN TWO VOLUMES 
VOL. I. 




BOSTON: 
TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS 



31 DCCCL. 






Entered according toAct of Congress, in the year 1850, by 

TICKNOR, REED, AND FIELDS, 

[n ilic Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 



rilfR.-iTON, TORRY & COAlPANY, PRINTERS, 
DEVOXSHIRE STREET. 



CONTENTS 



^^4^^ 



VOL. I. 



CI 



The Trite Grandeur of Nations. An Oration de- 
livered BEFORE THE AUTHORITIES OF THE CiTY OF 

Boston, July 4, 1845 1-130 

The Scholar, the Jurist, the Artist, the Phi- 
\nthropist. An Oration before the Phi Beta 
^vAPPA Society of Harvard University, at their 
Anniversary, August 27, 1846 .... 131-198 

White Slavery in the Barbary States. A Lec- 
ture before the Boston Mercantile Library 
Association, February 17, 1847 .... 199-302 

/ Fame and Glory. An Oration before the Lite- 
rary Societies of Amherst College, at their 
Anniversary, August U, 1847 .... 303-358 

The Law of Human Progress. An Oration before 
the Phi Beta Kappa Society of Union College, 
Schenectady, July 25, 1848 359-410 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. AN ORA- 
TION DELIVERED BEFORE THE AUTHORITIES 
OF THE CITY OF BOSTON, JULY 4, 1845. 

O ! yet a nobler task awaits thy hand ! 

For what can War but endless War still breed ? 
Till Truth and Right from Violence be freed. 

Milton. Soxxet to Fairfax. 



VOL. I. 



Certainly, if all who look upon themselves as men, not so much 
from the shape of their bodies, as because they are endowed with 
reason, would listen awhile unto Christ's wholesome and peaceable 
decrees, and, not puffed up with arrogance and conceit, rather believe 
their owne opinions than his admonitions ; the whole world long ago 
(turning the use of iron into milder workes), should have lived in 
most quiet tranquillity, and have met together in a firme and indis- 
soluble League of most safe Concord. — Arnoeius, Adveesus 
Gextes, LtB. I, p. 6. 

All high titles come hitherto from fighting. Your Herzog (Duke, 
Dux) is leader of Armies ; your Earl (Jarl) is strong man ; Mar- 
shal, cavalry horse-shoer. A millennium, or reign of Peace, having 
been prophecied, and becoming daily more and more indubitable, 
may it not be apprehended that such Fighting titles will cease to be 
palatable, and new and higher need to be devised? — Caklyle's 
Saetob Resartus. 



CITY OF BOSTON. 
In the Board of Aldermen, July 7, 1845. 

Resolved, That the thanks of this Board be presented in behalf 
of the City Council, to Charles Sumner, Esq., for the able and 
eloquent oration, delivered by him, before the Municipal Authorities 
of the City, at the recent celebration of the anniversary of the 
Declaration of the Independence of the United States; — and that 
he be requested to furnish a copy for the press. 

Attest, S. F. McCLEARY, City Clerk. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 



In obedience to an uninterrupted usage of our com- 
munity, we have all, on this Sabbath of the Nation, put 
aside the common cares of life, and seized a respite 
from the never-ending toils of labor, to meet in gladness 
and congratulation, mindful of the blessings transmitted 
from the Past, mindful also, I trust, of the duties to the 
Present and the Future. May he who now addresses 
you be enabled so to direct your minds, that you shall 
not seem to have lost a day ! 

All hearts first turn to the Fathers of the Republic. 
Their venerable forms rise before us, in the procession 
of successive generations. They come from the frozen 
rock of Plymouth, from the wasted bands of Ealeio-h, 
from the heavenly companionship of WilHam Penn, 
from the anxious councils of the Revolution, and from 
all those fields of sacrifice, on which, in obedience to 
the Spirit of their Age, they sealed their devotion to 
duty whh their blood. They seem to speak to us, their 
children : " Cease to vaunt yourselves of what you do, 



b THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

and of what has been done for you. Learn to walk 
humbly, and to think meekly of yourselves. Cultivate 
habits of self-sacrifice and of devotion to duty. May 
our words be always in your minds, never aim at aught 
which is not right, persuaded that without this, every 
possession and all knowledge will become an evil and a 
shame. Strive to increase the inheritance which we 
have bequeathed ; know, that, if we excel you in vir- 
tue, such a victory will be to us a mortification, while 
defeat will bring happiness. It is in this way, that you 
may conquer us. Nothing is more shameful for a man, 
than to found his title to esteem, not on his own merits, 
but on the fame of his ancestors. The Glory of the 
Fathers is doubtless to their children a most precious 
treasure ; but to enjoy it without transmitting it to the 
next generation, and without adding to it yourselves, 
this is the height of imbecility. Following these coun- 
sels, when your days shall be finished on earth, you 
will come to join us, and we shall receive you as 
friends receive friends; but if you neglect our words, 
expect no happy greeting then from us." * 

Honor to the memory of our Fathers ! May the turf 
lie gently on their sacred graves ! But not in words 
only, but in deeds also, let us testif3^ur reverence for 
their name. Let us imitate what in them was lofty, 
pure and good ; let us from them learn to bear hard- 
ship and privation. Let us, who now reap in strength 
what they sowed in weakness, study to enhance the 



* The chief of this is borrowed almost literally from the words 
attributed by Plato to the Fathers of Athens, in the beautiful funeral 
discourse of the Menexenus. 



TPIE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 4 

inheritance we have received. To do this, we must 
not fold our hands in slumber, nor abide content witli 
the Past. To each generation is committed its peculiar 
task ; nor does the heart, which responds to the call of 
duty, find rest except in the world to come. 

Be ours, then, the task which, in the order of Provi- 
dence, has been cast upon us ! And what is this task ? 
How shall we best perform our appointed part } 
What can we do to make our coming welcome to our 
Fathers in the skies, and to draw to our memory here- 
after the homage of a grateful posterity } How may we 
add to the inheritance we have received } The answer 
to these questions cannot fail to interest all minds, 
particularly on this festival of the Nativity of the 
Republic. In truth, it well becomes the patriot citi- 
zen, on this anniversary, to meditate on the national 
character, and the way in which it may be advanced 
— as the good man dedicates his birth-day to medi- 
tation on his life, and to aspirations for hs improve- 
ment. Avoiding, then, all customary exultation in the 
abounding prosperity of the land, and in that Freedom, 
whose influence is widening to the uttermost circles of 
the earth, let us turn our thoughts on the character of 
our country, and humbly endeavor to learn wh^t it be- 
longs to us to do, to the end that the Republic may best 
secure the rights and happiness of the people com- 
mitted to its care — that it may perform its great part 
in the World's History — that it may fulfill the aspira- 
tions of generous hearts — and, practising that right- 
eousness which exalteth a Nation, thus attain to the 
Christian heights of True Grandeur. 

With this aim, and, believing that I can ih no other 



8 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

way so fitly fulfill the trust reposed in me, when I was 
selected as the voice of the City of Boston, on this 
welcome Anniversary, I propose to consider what^ in our 
age, are the true objects of National Ambition — what 
is truly National Honor — National Glory — what is 
THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. I hopo to Contribute 
something to rescue these terms, so powerful over the 
minds of men, from the mistaken objects to which 
they are applied, from deeds of War, and the extension 
of empire, that henceforward they may be attached 
only to works of justice and beneficence. 

The subject may be novel, particularly on an occa- 
sion like the present ; but it is comprehensive and 
transcendent in importance. It raises us to the con- 
templation of things that are not temporary or local in 
their character ; but which belong to all ages and all 
countries ; which are as lofty as Truth, as universal 
as Humanity. Nay more ; it practically concerns 
the general welfare, not only of our own cherished 
Republic, but of the whole Federation of Nations. 
Besides, at this moment, it derives a peculiar and urgent 
interest from transactions in which we are unhappily 
involved. On the one side, by an act of unjust legisla- 
tion, extending our power over Texas, we have en- 
dangered Peace vv'ith Mexico ; while on the other, by 
a presumptuous assertion of a disputed claim to a 
worthless territory beyond the Rocky Mountains, we 
have kindled anew on the hearth of our Mother Coun- 
try, the smothered fires of hostile strife. Mexico and 
England both aver the determination to vindicate what 
is called the National Honor; and our Government 
now calmly contemplates the dread Arbitrament of 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 9 

War, provided it cannot obtain what is called an honor- 
able Peace.* 

Far be from our country and our age the sin and 
shame of contests hateful in the sight of God and all 
good men, having their origin in no righteous though 
mistaken sentiment, in no true love of country, in no 
generous thirst for fame, that last infirmity of noble 
minds, but springing in both cases from an ignorant 
and ignoble passion for new territories ; strengthened, 
in one case, by an unnatural desire, in this land of 
boasted freedom, to fasten by new links the chains 
which promise soon to fall from the limbs of the un- 
happy slave ! In such contests, God has no attribute 
which can join with us. Who believes that the Na- 
tional Honor will be promoted by a war with Mexico 
or with England ? What just man would sacrifice a 
single human life, to bring under our rule both Texas 
and Oregon ? An ancient Roman, a stranger to 
Christian truth, touched only by the relations of fellow- 
countrymen, and not of fellow-man, said, as he turned 
aside from a career of Asiatic conquest, that he would 
rather save the life of a single citizen than become 
master of all the dominions of Mithridates. 

A war with Mexico would be mean and cowardly ; 
with England it would be bold at least, though parrici- 
dal. The heart sickens at the murderous attack upon 
an enemy, distracted by civil feuds, weak at home, 
impotent abroad ; but it recoils in horror from the 

* The official paper at Washington has said, " We presume the 
negotiation is really resumed, and will be prosecuted in this city, 
and not in London, to some definite conclusion — peaceably we 
should hope — but toe icish for no peace but an honorable peace." 



10 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

deadly shock between children of a common ancestry, 
speaking the same language, soothed in infancy by the 
same words of love and tenderness, and hardened into 
vigorous manhood under the bracing influence of insti- 
tutions drawn from the same ancient founts of freedom. 
Curam acuebat, quod adversiis Latinos heUandum erat^ 
lingua^ morihus, armorum genere, insiitutis ante omnia 
militaribus, congruentes ; milites militibvs, centurioni- 
bus centuriones, tribuni tribunis compares^ collegccque, 
iisdem j^rcBsidiis, scepe iisdem manipulis permixti fue- 
rant.^ 

In our age there can be no peace that is not 
honorable ; there can be no war that is not 
DISHONORABLE. The Truc Honor of a Nation is to be 
found only in deeds of Justice and Beneficence, secur- 
ing the happiness of its people, all of which are in- 
consistent with War. In the clear eye of Christian 
judgment vain are its victories ; infamous are its spoils. 
He is the true benefactor and alone worthy of Honor, 
who brings comfort where before was wretchedness ; 
who dries the tear of sorrow ; v/ho pours oil into the 
wounds of the unfortunate ; who feeds the hungry 
and clothes the naked ; who unlooses the fetter of the 
slave ; who does justice ; who enlightens the ignorant ; 
who, by his virtuous genius, in art, in literature, in 
science, enlivens and exalts the hours of life ; who, 
by words or actions, inspires a love for God and for 
man. This is the Christian hero, this is the man of 
Honor in a Christian land. He is no benefactor, nor 
deserving of Honor, whatever his worldly renown, 
whose life is passed in acts of brute force ; who 

* Liv, VIII. c. 6. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 11 

renounces the great law of Christian brotherhood ; 
whose vocation is blood. Well may old Sir Thomas 
Browne exclaim, " The world does not know its Great- 
est Men ; " for thus far it has chiefly discerned the 
violent brood of battle, the armed men springing up 
from the dragon's teeth sown by Hate, and cared little 
for the Truly Good Men, children of Love, guiltless of 
their country's blood, whose steps on earth have been 
noiseless as an angel's wing. 

It cannot be disguised that these views differ from 
the opinions most popular with the world down to this 
day. The voice of man is yet given to the praise of mili- 
tary chieftains, and the honors of victory are chanted 
even by the lips of woman. The mother, while rock- 
ing her infant on her knees, stamps upon his tender 
mind, at that age more impressible than wax, the images 
of War ; she nurses his slumbers with its melodies ; she 
pleases his waking hours with its stories; and selects 
for his playthings the plume and the sword. From the 
child is formed the man : and who can weigh the influ- 
ence of a mother's spirit on the opinions of later life ? 
The mind which trains the child is like the hand that 
commands the end of a long lever ; a gentle effort at 
that time suffices to heave the enormous weight of suc- 
ceeding years. As the boy advances to youth, he is 
fed like Achilles, not on honey and milk only, but on 
bear's flesh and lion's marrow. He draws the nutri- 
ment of his soul from a literature, whose beautiful 
fields have been moistened by human blood. Fain 
would I offer my tribute to the Father of Poetry, stand- 
ing with harp of immortal melody, on the misty moun- 
tain top of distant antiquity ; to those stories of courage 



12 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

and sacrifice which emblazon the annals of Greece and 
Rome ; to the fulminations of Demosthenes and the 
splendors of Tully; to the sweet verse of Virgil and 
the poetic prose of Livy. Fain would I offer my tribute 
to the new literature, which shot up in modern times as 
a vigorous forest from the burnt site of ancient woods ; 
to the passionate song of the Troubadour of France, 
and the Minnesinger of Germany ; to the thrilling bal- 
lads of Spain, and the delicate music of the Italian 
lyre. But from all these has breathed the breath of 
War, that has swept the heart-strings of the thronging 
generations of men ! 

And when the youth becomes a man, his country 
invites his services in War, and holds before his bewil- 
dered imagination the prizes of worldly Honor. For 
him is the pen of the historian and the verse of the 
poet. His soul is taught to swell at the thought that 
he also is a soldier ; that his name shall be entered on 
the list of those who have borne arms in the cause of 
their country ; and perhaps he dreams that he too may 
sleep, like the Great Captain of Spain, with a hundred 
trophies over his grave. The law of the land throws its 
sanction over this madness. But the contagion spreads 
beyond those bands on whom is imposed any positive 
obligation. Respectable citizens volunteer to look like 
soldiers, and to affect in dress, in arms, and deportment, 
what is called " the pride, pomp, and circumstance of 
glorious war." The ear-piercing fife has to-day filled 
our streets, and we have come together to this Church 
on this National Sabbath, by the thump of drum and 
vvith the parade of bristling bayonets. 

It is not strange, then, that the Spirit of War still 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 13 

finds a home among us ; nor that its Honors continue to 
be regarded. All this may seem to give point to the 
bitte r phiIosop hy_of .Hobbcs, who held, that the natural 
state of mankind was war, and to sustain the exultino; 
language of the soldier in our own day, who has said, 
" War is the condition of this world. From man to 
the smallest insect, all are at strife, and the glory of 
arms, which cannot be obtained without the exercise of 
honor, fortitude, courage, obedience, modesty, and 
temperance, excites the brave man's patriotism, and is 
a chastening correction of the rich man's pride." * 

Alas ! in the existing relations of nations, the infidel 
philosopher, and the rhetorical soldier find too much 
support for a theory which slanders human nature, and 
insults the goodness of God. It is true that there are 
impulses in us, which unhappily tend to strife. There 
are propensities, that we have in common with the 
beasts, which, if not kept in subordination to what in 
man is human, or, perhaps, divine — if not directed to 
labors of justice and beneficence — will break forth in 
acts of outrage. In all these we discern the predomi- 
nance of the animal qualities. Hence come wars and 
fightings and the false glory which crowns such bar- 
barism. But the Christian elevation of nations, as of 
individuals, may well be determined by the extent to 
which these evil dispositions are restrained. Nor does the 
Christian teacher ever perform his high office more truly 
than when, recognizing the supremacy of the moral 
and intellectual faculties, he calls upon nations, as upon 
individuals, to declare independence of the bestial 

* Napier, Penins. War, VI. 688. 



14 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

propensities, to abolish or abandon all those practices 
and customs which are founded on these propensities^ 
and in every way to beat down the profane spirit which' 
provokes to strife. But in making this appeal, he will 
be startled by the fact, as discreditable as it is impor- 
tant, that, while the municipal law of each Christian 
state — discarding the Arbitrament of Force — provides 
a judicial tribunal for the determination of controversies 
between individuals, the International Law expressly 
establishes the Arbitrament of War for the determina- 
tion of controversies between nations. 

Here, then, in unfolding the True Grandeur of Na- 
tions, we encounter a practice or custom^ sanctioned by 
the Law of Nations, and constituting a part of that law, 
which exists in defiance of all those principles of 
morals and religion which regulate the conduct of indi- 
viduals. If it is wrong and inglorious in individuals to 
consent and agree to determine their petty controversies 
by combat, it must be equally wrong and inglorious for 
nations to consent and agree to determine their vaster 
controversies by combat. Here is a positive, precise, 
and specific evil, of gigantic proportions — inconsistent 
with all that is truly honorable — making within the 
sphere of its influence all True Grandeur impossible — 
which does not proceed from any uncontrollable im- 
pulses of our nature, but is expressly established and 
organized by law. To this Evil I ask your best atten- 
tion. 

As all citizens are parties to the municipal law, and 
are responsible for its institutions, so are all the Chris- 
tian nations parties to the International Law, and 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 15 

responsible for its provisions. By recognizing these 
provisions, nations consent and agree beforehand to 
the Arbitrament of War, precisely as citizens, by re- 
cognizing the Trial by Jury, consent and agree before- 
hand to this tribunal. And as to understand the true 
nature of the Trial by Jury, we first repair to the 
municipal lav/ by which it is established ; so to under- 
stand the true nature of the Arbitrament of War, we 
must first repair to the Law of Nations. 

Writers, of transcendent genius and learning have 
defined this Arbitrament, and laid down the rules by 
which it is governed, constituting a complex code with 
innumerable subtle provisions, regulating the resort to 
it, and the manner in which it shall be conducted, — 
called the Laios of War. In these quarters let us catch 
our first authentic glimpse of its folly and wickedness. 
War is called by Lord Bacon, " One of the highest 
Trials of Right., when princes and states that acknowl- 
edge no superior upon earth, shall put themselves upon 
the justice of God ^or the deciding of their controversies 
by such success as it shall please Him to give on either 
side." (Works, Vol. III. p. 40.) This definition of the 
English philosopher has been adopted by the American 
jurist. Chancellor Kent, in his authoritative Commen- 
taries on American Law, (Vol. I. p. 46.) The Swiss 
professor Vattel, whose work is regarded as an impor- 
tant depository of the Law of Nations, defines War as 
" that state in which \we prosecute our rights ly Force.'''* 
(Book III. ch. 1, § L) In this he very nearly follows 
the eminent Dutch authority Bynkershoek, who says : 
Helium est eorum, qui sua? potestatis sunt, juris sui 
persequendi ergo., concertatio per vim vel dolum. 



16 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

(Qutest. Jur. Pub. Lib. I. ch. 6.) Mr. Whewell, who 
has done so much to illustrate philosophy in all its 
departments, says, in his recent work on the elements 
of Morality and Polity, " Though War is appealed to, 
because there is no other ultimate tribunal to 
which states can have recourse, it is appealed to for 
justice.'''' (Vol. II. § 1146.) And in our country, Mr. 
Lieber says, in a work abounding in learning and 
sagacious thought, (Political Ethics, Vol. II. 643,) that 
War is a jnode of ohtaining rights^ — a definition which 
hardly differs in form from that of Vattel and Bynker- 
shoek. 

In harmony with these definitions, let me define the 
Evil which I now arraign. War is a public armed 
contest hetioeen natiojis, under the sanction of Inter- 
national Law., in order to establish justice bdiveen 
them; as, for instance, to determine a disputed bound- 
ary line, or the title to territory. 

This definition, it will be at once perceived, is con- 
fined to contests between nations. It is restrained to 
international War. It carefully excludes the question, 
so often agitated, of the right of revolution, and that 
other question, on which the friends of Peace sometimes 
differ, the right of personal self-defence. It does not 
in any way involve the question, of the right to employ 
force in the administration of justice, or in the conserva- 
tion of domestic quiet. 

It is true that the term dfensive is always applied 
to Wars in our day. And it is creditable to the moral 
sense of nations, that they feel constrained to allege 
this seeming excuse, although its absurdity is openly 
attested by the fact, that it is advanced equally by each 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 17 

belligerent party. But it is unreasonable and impossi- 
ble to suppose that any War can arise in the present 
age, under the sanctions of International Law, except 
to determine an asserted rigid. Whatever may have 
been its character in periods of barbarism, or when 
invoked to repel an incursion of robbers or pirates — 
the enemies of the human race — War becomes in our 
day, among all the nations who are parties to the exist- 
ing International Laiv, simply a mode of litigation, or 
of deciding a Lis Pendens., between these nations. It 
is a mere trial of right. It is an appeal for justice 
to Force. The Wars that now lower from Mexico and 
from England are of this character. On the one side 
we assert a title to Texas, which is disputed ; and on 
the other side, we assert a title to Oregon, which is 
disputed. Surely it is only according to " martial logic," 
or the " flash language " of a dishonest patriotism, that 
the Ordeal by Battle in these causes can be regarded, 
on either side, as defensive War. Nor did the threat- 
ened War with France in 1834, promise to assume any 
different character. Its professed object was to secure 
the payment of five millions of dollars — in other words, 
to determine by this Ultimate Tribunal a simple ques- 
tion of justice. And, going back still further in our 
history, the avowed j)urpose of the War declared by the 
United States against Great Britain in 1812, was to ob- 
tain from the latter power an abandonment of her claim 
to search American vessels. Unrighteous as was this 
claim, it seems clear that War was here invoked only 
as a Trial of Right. 

But it forms no part of my purpose to consider indi- 
vidual Wars in the Past, except so far as necessary by 

VOL. I. 2 



18 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

way of example. My aim is above this. I wish to 
expose the irrational, cruel, and impious enormity of 
the whole custom of War, as sanctioned by the Law^ of 
Nations. On this account I resort to that supreme law, 
for the true definition of the Evil. And let me be 
understood here as planting myself on this definition. 
This is the main foundation of the argument which I 
now venture to submit. 

When we have considered, in succession, first ^ the 
character of 'War; secondly ^ \\\g miseries it produces; 
and thirdly^ its utter and shameful insufficiency, as a 
mode of determining justice^ we may be able to de- 
cide, strictly and logically, whether it must not be 
ranked with crimes from which no True Honor 
can spring, to individuals or nations, but rather con- 
demnation and shame. It will then be important, in 
order fully to appreciate the character of this Evil, and 
the necessity for its overthrow, to pass in review the 
various prejudices by which War is sustained, and 
especially that most pernicious prejudice, in obedience 
to which uncounted sums are diverted from the blessed 
purposes of Peace to Preparations for War. 

I. And first, as to the character of War, or that part 
of our nature in which it has its origin. Listen to the 
voice of the ancient poet of Boeotian Ascra : 

This is the law for mortals ordained by the Ruler of Heaven ; 
Fishes and Beasts and Birds of the air devour each other ; 
Justice dwells not among them ; only to man has he giveii 
Justice the Highest and Best* 

* Hesiod, Works and Days, v. 276-279. Cicero also says ; Neque 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 19 

The first idea that rises to the mind, in regarding War, 
is, that it is a resort to brute Force, whereby each 
nation strives to overpower the other. Reason, and the 
divine part of our nature, in which alone we differ from 
the beasts, in which alone we approach the Divinity, in 
which alone are the elements of justice^ the professed 
object of War, are dethroned. It is, in short, a tempo- 
rary adoption, by men, of the character of wild beasts, 
emulating their ferocity, rejoicing like them in blood, 
and seeking, as with a lion's paw, to hold an asserted 
right. This character of War is somewhat disguised, 
in more recent days, by the skill and knowledge which 
it employs ; it is, however, still the same, made more 
destructive by the genius and intellect which have been 
degraded to be its servants. The early poets, in the 
unconscious simplicity of the world's childhood, make 
this boldly apparent. All the heroes of Homer are 
Jikened in their rage to the ungovernable fury of animals, 
or things devoid of human reason or human affection. 
Menelaus presses his way through the crowd, " like a 
beast." Sarpedon was aroused against the Argives, 
" as a lion against the crooked-horned oxen ; " and 
afterwards rushes forward, " like a lion nourished on 
the mountains for a long time famished for want of 
flesh, but whose courage compels him to go even to 
the well-guarded sheepfold." The great Telamonian 
Ajax in one and the same passage is likened to " a 
beast," " a tawny lion," and " an obstinate ass ; " and 



ulla re longius absumus a nalura ferarum, in quibus in esse forlitudi- 
nem seepe dicimus, ut in equis, in leonibus ; juslitiam, equitatem, 
bonilatem non dicimus, — De Offic. Lib. 1, cap. 16. 



20 THE TRUE GRANrEUR OF NATIONS. 

all the Greek chiefs, the flower of the camp, are de- 
scribed as ranged about Diomed, " like raw-eating lions 
or wild boars whose strength is irresistible." Even 
Hector, the hero in whom cluster the highest virtues of 
polished War, is called by the characteristic term, " the 
tamer of horses," and one of his renowned feats in bat- 
tle, indicating only brute strength, is where he takes up 
and hurls a stone which two of the strongest men could 
not easily put into a wagon ; and he drives over dead 
bodies and shields, while the axle is defiled by gore, 
and the guard about the seat, sprinkled from the horse's 
hoofs and from the tires of the wheels ; and, in that 
most admired passage of ancient Uterature, before re- 
turning his child, the young Astyanax, to the arms of 
his wife, he invokes the gods for a single blessing on 
the boy's head, " that he may excel his father, and 
bring home hloocJy spoils, his enemy being slain, and 
so make glad the heart of his mother ! " 

Similar illustrations might be gathered, also, from the 
early fields of modern literature, as from those of an- 
tiquity, all showing the unconscious degradation of the 
soldier, who, in the pursuit o^ justice, renounces the 
human character to assume that of the beast. Henry 
v., in our own Shakspeare, in the spirit-stirring appeal 
to his troops, says : — 

When the blast of war blows in our ears, 
Then imitate tfie action of the tiger. 

This is plain and frank, and reveals the true character 
of War. 

I need not dwell on the moral debasement of man 
that must ensue. The passions of his nature are un- 
leashed like so many blood-hounds, and suffered to 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 21 

rage. All the crimes which fill our prisons stalk 
abroad, plaited with the soldier's garb, and unwhipt of 
justice. Murder, robbery, rape, arson, theft, are the 
sports of this fiendish Saturnalia, when 

The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, 
And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart, 
In the liberty of bloody hand shall range 
With conscience icicle as hell. 

Such is the foul disfigurement which War produces 
in man ; man, of whom it has been said, " How noble 
in reason, how infinite in faculties! in form and mov- 
ing, how express and admirable ! in action, how like an 
angel ! in apprehension, how like a God ! " 

II. Let us now consider more particularly the effects 
or consequences of this resort to brute force, in the 
pursuit of justice. 

The immediate effect of War is to sever all relations 
of friendship and commerce between the belligerent 
nations, and every individual thereof, impressing upon 
each citizen or subject the character of enemy. 
Imagine this change between England and the United 
States. The innumerable ships of the two countries, 
the white doves of commerce, bearing the olive of 
peace, would be driven from the sea, or turned from 
their proper purposes to be ministers of destruction ; 
the threads of social and business intercourse which 
have become woven into a thick web would be sudden- 
ly snapped asunder ; friend could no longer communi- 
cate with friend ; the twenty thousand letters, which 
each fortnight are speeded, from this port alone, across 
the sea, could no longer be sent, and the human affec- 



22 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tions and desires, of which these are the precious 
expression, would seek in vain for utterance. Tell 
me, you, who have friends and kindred abroad, or 
who are bound to foreigners by more worldly relations 
of commerce, are you prepared for this rude separa- 
tion ? 

This, however, is little compared with what must 
follow. It is but the first portentous shadow of the 
disastrous eclipse, the twilight usher of thick darkness, 
that is to cover the whole heavens, as with a pall, to be 
broken only by the blazing lightnings of the battle and 
the siege. 

These horrors redden every page of history ; while 
to the scandal of humanity, they have never wanted 
historians to describe them with feelings kindred to 
those by which they were inspired. The demon that 
has drawn the sword has also guided the pen. The 
favorite chronicler of modern Europe, Froissart — 
while according his admiration equally to bravery and 
cunning, to the courtesy which pardoned as to the rage 
which caused the flow of torrents of blood — dwells 
with especial delight on " beautiful captures," " beauti- 
ful rescues," " beautiful prowesses," and " beautiful 
feats of arms," and he wantons in picturing the 
assaults of cities, " which, being soon gained by force, 
were robbed, and put to the sword whhout mercy, men 
and women and children, while the churches were 
burnt." * This was in a barbarous age. But popular 
writers, in our own day, dazzled by those false ideas of 
greatness, at which reason and Christianity blush, do 

* Froissart, c. 178, p. 68. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 23 

not hesitate to dwell on similar scenes with terms of 
rapture and eulogy. Even the beautiful soul of Wil- 
berforce, which sighed " that the bloody laws of his 
country sent many unprepared into another world," by 
capital punishment, could hail the slaughter of Water- 
loo, on the Sabbath that he held so holy, by which 
thousands were hurried into eternity, as " a splendid 
victory." * 

But my present purpose is, less to judge the writer, 
than to expose the horrors on horrors which he ap- 
plauds. At Tarragona, above six thousand human be- 
ings, almost all defenceless, men and women, gray hairs 
and infant innocence, attractive youth and wrinkled age, 
were butchered by the infuriated troops in one night, 
and the morning sun rose upon a city whose streets and 
houses were inundated with blood. And yet this is 
called " a glorious exploit." f This was a conquest by 
the French. At a later day, Ciudad Rodrigo was 
stormed by the British, when in the license of vic- 
tory, there ensued a savage scene of plunder and 
violence, while shouts and screams on all sides min- 
gled fearfully with the groans of the wounded. The 
churches were desecrated, the cellars of wine and 
spirits were pillaged ; fire was wantonly applied to 
different parts of the city ; and brutal intoxication 
spread in every direction. It was only when the 
drunken men dropped from excess, or fell asleep, that 
any degree of order was restored, and yet the storming 
of Ciudad Rodrigo is pronounced " one of the most 



* Life of Wilherforce, IV. 256, 261. 

t Alison, Hist, of French Rev. VIII. 114. 



24 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

brilliant exploits of the British army." * This " beau- 
tiful feat of arms" was followed by the storming of 
Badajoz, in which the same scenes were again enacted 
with added atrocities. Let the story be told in the 
words of a partial historian : " Shameless rapacity, 
brutal intemperance, savage lust, cruelty and murder, 
shrieks and piteous lamentations, groans, shouts, impre- 
cations, the hissing of fire bursting from the houses, 
the crashing of doors and windows, and the report of 
muskets used in violence, resounded for two days and 
nights in the streets of Badajoz ! On the third, when 
the city was sacked, when the soldiers were exhausted 
by their excesses, the tumult rather subsided than was 
quelled ! The wounded were then looked to, the dead 
disposed of." t 

The same terrible War affords another instance of 
the atrocities of a siege, which cries to Heaven for 
judgment. For weeks before the surrender of Sara- 
gossa, the deaths were from four to five hundred daily ; 
the living were unable to bury the dead, and thousands 
of carcasses, scattered about the streets and court-yards 
or piled in heaps at the doors of churches, were left to 
dissolve in their own corruption, or to be licked up by 
the flames of the burning houses. The city was shaken 
to its foundation by sixteen thousand shells thrown 
during the bombardment, and the explosion of forty- 
five thousand pounds of powder in the mines, while the 
bones of forty thousand persons of every age and both 
sexes bore dreadful testimony to the unutterable cruelty 
of War. 

* Alison, Hist. VIII. 189. 

t Napier, History of Penins. War, IV. 431. 



THE TRUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 25 

These might seem to be pictures from the age 
of Alaric, Scourge of God, or of Attila, whose boast 
was, that the grass did not grow where his horse had 
set his foot ; but no ; they belong to our own times. 
They are portions of the wonderful but wicked career 
of him, who stands forth as the foremost representative 
of worldly Grandeur. The heart aches, as we follow 
him and his marshals from field to field of Satanic 
Glory.* At Albuera, in Spain, we see the horrid piles 
of carcasses, while all the night the rain pours down, 
and the river and the hills and the woods on each side, 
resound with the dismal clamors and groans of dying 
men. At Salamanca, long after the battle, we behold 
the ground strewn with the fragments of casques and 
cuirasses, and still blanched by the skeletons of those 
who fell. We follow in the dismal traces of his Rus- 
sian campaign ; at Valentina we see the soldiers black 
with powder, their bayonets bent with the violence of 
the encounter ; the earth ploughed with cannon shot, 
the trees torn and mutilated, the field covered with 
broken carriages, wounded horses and mangled bodies, 
while disease, sad attendant on military suffering, 
sweeps thousands from the great hospitals of the army, 

* A living poet of Italy, who will be placed by his prose, among 
the great names of his country's literature, in a remarkable ode, 
which he has thrown on the Urn of Napoleon, leaves to posterity to 
judge whether his career of battle was True Glory. 

Fu vera gloria ? Ai posteri 

U ardua scntenza. 

Manzoni, 11 Cinque Maggio. 
When men learn to appreciate moral Grandeur, the easy sentence 
will be rendered, and the Glory of the warrior will be scattered like 
the unclean dust of his earthly body. 



26 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

and the multitude of amputated limbs, which there is 
not time to destroy, accumulate in bloody heaps, filling 
the air with corruption. What tongue, what pen, can 
describe the horrors of the field of Borodino, where 
between the rise and set of a single sun, more than 
one hundred thousand of our fellow-men, equalHng in 
number the population of this whole city, sank to the 
earth dead or wounded ? Fifty days after the battle, 
no less than twenty thousand are found lying where 
they have fallen, and the whole plain is strewn with 
half-buried carcasses of men and horses, intermingled 
with garments dyed in blood, and bones gnawed by 
dogs and vultures. Who can follow the French army, 
in their dismal retreat, avoiding the pursuing spear of 
the Cossack, only to sink beneath the sharper frost and 
ice, in a temperature below zero, on foot, without a 
shelter for their bodies, and famishing on horse-flesh 
and a miserable compound of rye and snow-water ? 
Still later, we behold him with a fresh array, contending 
against new forces under the walls of Dresden ; and as 
the Emperor — having indulged the night before in 
royal supper with the king of Saxony — now rides 
over the field of battle, ghastly traces of the recent 
slaughter are seen on all sides ; out of the newly 
made grave hands and arms are projecting, stark 
and stiff above the earth. And shortly afterwards, 
when shelter is needed for the troops, direction is 
given to occupy the Ilosphals for the Insane, with the 
order " turn out the mad." 

But why follow further in this career of blood ? 
There is, however, one other picture of the atrocious, 
though natural consequences of War, occurring almost 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 27 

within our own day, that I would not omit. Let me 
bring to your mind Genoa, called the Suburb, City of 
palaces, dear to the memory of American childhood as 
the birth-place of Christopher Columbus, and one of 
the spots first enlightened by the morning beams of 
civilization, whose merchants were princes, and whose 
rich argosies, in those early days, introduced to Europe 
the choicest products of the East, the linen of Egypt, 
the spices of Arabia, and the silks of Samarcand. She 
still sits in queenly pride, as she sat then, — her mural 
crown studded with towers, — her churches rich with 
marble floors and rarest pictures, — her palaces of 
ancient doges and admirals yet spared by the hand of 
Time, — her close streets, thronged by one hundred 
thousand inhabitants, — at the feet of the maritime 
Alps, as they descend to the blue and tideless waters 
of the Mediterranean sea, — leaning with her back 
against their strong mountain sides, overshadowed by 
the foliage of the fig tree and the olive, while the 
orange and lemon fill with their perfume the air where 
reigns perpetual spring. Who can contemplate such a 
city without delight ? Who can listen to the story of 
her sorrows without a pang ? 

In the last autumn of the last centuiy, the armies of 
the French Republic, which had dominated over Italy, 
were driven from their conquests, and compelled with 
shrunk forces, under Massena, to seek shelter within 
the walls of Genoa. After various efforts by the Aus- 
trian General on the land, aided by a bombardment 
from the British fleet in the harbor, to force the strong 
defences by assault, the city is invested by a strict 
blockade. All communication with the 'country is cut 



28 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

off on the one side, while the harhor is closed by the 
ever-wakeful British watch-dogs of war. Besides the 
French troops, within the beleagured and unfortunate 
city, are the peaceful unoffending inhabitants, more 
than those of Boston in number. Provisions soon 
become scarce ; scarcity sharpens into want, till fell 
Famine, bringing blindness and madness in her train, 
rages like an Erinnys. Picture to yourself this large 
population, not pouring out their lives in the exulting 
rush of battle, but wasting at noon-day, the daughter by 
the side of the mother, the husband by the side of the 
wife. When grain and rice fail, flax-seed, millet, 
cocoas and almonds are ground by hand-mills into 
flour, and even bran, baked with honey, is eaten not to 
satisfy, but to deaden hunger. During the siege, but 
before the last extremities, a pound of horse-flesh is 
sold for thirty-two cents ; a pound of bran for thirty 
cents; a pound of flour for §1.75. A single bean is 
soon sold for four cents, and a biscuit of three ounces 
for 82.25, and none are finally to be had. The mis- 
erable soldiers, after devouring all the horses in the 
city, are reduced to the degradation of feeding on dogs, 
cats, rats, and worms, which are eagerly hunted in the 
cellars and common sewers. Happy were now, ex- 
claims an Italian historian, not those who lived, but 
those who died ! The day is dreary from hunger ; the 
night more dreary still from hunger accompanied by 
delirious fancies. Recourse is now had to herbs ; 
monk's rhubarb, sorrel, mallows, wild succory. People 
of every condition, women of noble birth and beauty, 
seek on the slope of the mountain inclosed w^ithin the 
defences, those aliments which nature destined solely 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 29 

for the beasts. A little cheese and a few vegetables 
are all that can be afforded to the sick and wounded, 
those sacred stipendaries upon human charity. Men 
and women, in the last anguish of despair, now fill the 
air with their groans and shrieks ; some in spasms, 
convulsions and contortions, gasping their last breath on 
the unpitying stones of the streets ; alas ! not more 
unpitying than man. Children, whom a dying mother's 
arms had ceased to protect, the orphans of an hour, 
with piercing cries, seek in vain the compassion of the 
passing stranger ; but none pity or aid them. The 
sweet fountains of sympathy are all closed by the self- 
ishness of individual distress. In the general agony, 
the more impetuous rush from the gates, and impale 
themselves on the Austrian bayonets, while others pre- 
cipitate themselves into the sea. Others still (pardon 
the dire recital!) are driven to devour their shoes and 
the leather of their pouches, and the horror of human 
flesh so far abates, that numbers feed like cannibals on 
the bodies of the dead.* 



* This account has been drawn from the animated sketches of 
Botta, (History of Italj', under Napoleon, vol. I. chap. I.) Alison, 
(Hist, of French Rev., vol. IV. chap. XXX.) and Arnold, (Modern 
History, Lee. IV.) The humanity of the latter is particularly 
aroused to the condemnation of this most atrocious murder of inno- 
cent people, and he suggests, as a sufficient remedy, a modification 
of the Laws of War, permitting all non-combatants to withdraw 
from a blockaded town ! They may be spared in this way the 
languishing death by starvation ; but they must desert their fire- 
sides, their pursuits, all that makes life dear, and become homeless 
exiles ; a fate little better than the former. It is strange that Ar- 
nold's pure soul and clear judgment did not recognize the truth, that 
the whole custom of War is unrighteous and unlawful, and that the 
horrors of this siege are its natural consequence. Laws of War ! 



dO THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

At this stage the French general capitulated, claim- 
ing and receiving what are called " the honors of 
War ; " but not before twenty thousand innocent per- 
sons, old and young, women and children, having no 
part or interest in the War, had died the most horrible 
of deaths. The Austrian flag floated over the captured 
Genoa but a brief span of time ; for Bonaparte had 
already descended, like an eagle, from the Alps, and 
in less than a fortnight afterwards, on the plains of 
Marengo, shattered, as with an iron mace, the Austrian 
empire in Italy. 

But wasted lands, ruined and famished cities, and 
slaughtered armies are only a part of " the purple 
testament of bleeding war." Every soldier is con- 
nected with others, as all of you, by dear ties of 
kindred, love, and friendship. He has been sternly 
summoned from the embraces of family. To him 
there is, perhaps, an aged mother, who has fondly 
hoped to lean her decaying frame upon his more 
youthful form ; perhaps a wife, whose life has been 
just entwined inseparably with his, now condemned to 
wasting despair ; perhaps brothers, sisters. As he falls 
on the field of battle, must not all these rush with his 
blood ? But who can measure the distress that radiates 
as from a bloody sun, penetrating innumerable homes ? 
Who can give the guage and dimensions of this incal- 
culable sorrow ? Tell me, ye who feel the bitterness 
of parting with dear friends and kindred, whom you 
watch tenderly till the last golden sands are run 



Laws in that which is lawless! order in disorder! rules of wrong! 
There can be only one law of War; that is the great law, which 
pronounces it unwise, unchristian, and unjust. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 31 

out, and the great hour-glass is turned, what is the 
measure of your anguish ? Your friend departs, 
soothed by kindness and in the arms of Love ; the 
soldier gasps out his life with no friend near, while the 
scowl of Hate darkens all that he beholds, darkens his 
own departing soul. Who can forget the anguish that 
fills the bosom and crazes the brain of Leonora, in the 
matchless ballad of Burger, when seeking in vain 
among the returning squadrons for her lover left dead 
on Prague's ensanguined plain ? But every field of 
blood has many Leonoras. From a master poet of 
antiquity, we draw a vivid image of homes made deso- 
late by battle.* 

But through the bounds of Grecia's land, 

Who sent her sons for Troy to part, 

See mourning, with much suffering heart, 

On each man's threshold stand, 

On each sad hearth in Grecia's land. 

Well may her soul with grief be rent ; 

She well remembers whom she sent. 

She sees them not return ; 

Instead of men, to each man's home. 

Urns and ashes only come, 

And the armor wliich they wore ; 

Sad relics to their native shore. 

For Mars, the barteier of the lifeless clay, 

Who sells for gold the slain, 

A7ui holds the scale in baltle's doubtful day, 

High balanced o^er the plain, 

From Ilium's walls for men returns 

Ashes and sepulchral urns ; 

Ashes wet with many a tear, 

Sad relics of the fiery bier. 

Round the full urns the general groan 

Goes, as each their kindred own. 

* Agamemnon of ^Eschylus ; Chorus. 



32 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

One ihey mourn in battle strong, 
And one, that 'mid the armed throng 
He sunk in glory's slaughtering tide. 
And for another's consort died. 

* + * * 

Others they mourn whose monuments stand 
By Ilium's walls on foreign strand ; 
Where they fell in beauty's bloom, 
There they lie in hated tomb ; 
Sunk beneath the massy mound, 
In eternal chambers bound. 

III. From this dreary picture of the miseries of VVar, 
I turn to another branch of the subject. 

War is utterly ineffectual to secure or advance the 
object at which it professes to aim. The misery which 
it excites, contributes to no end, helps to establish no 
right, and therefore in no respect determines justice 
between the contending nations. 

The fruitlessness and vanity of War appear in the 
results of tlie great wars by which the world has been 
lacerated. After long struggles, in which each nation 
has inflicted and received incalculable injury, peace has 
been gladly obtained on the basis of the condition of 
things before the War — Status ante Bellum. I cannot 
better illustrate this point, than by the familiar exam- 
ple — humiliating to both countries, in the light of 
True Glory — of the last War with Great Britain, the 
professed object of which was to obtain from the latter 
Power a renunciation of her claim to impress our sea- 
men. The greatest number of American seamen ever 
officially alleged to be compulsorily serving in the 
British navy was about eight hundred. To overturn this 
injustice, the Arbitrament of War was invoked ; and the 
whole country was doomed, for more than three years, 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 33 

to its accursed blight. Our commerce was driven from 
the seas ; the resources of the land were drained by 
taxation ; villages on the Canadian frontier were laid in 
ashes; the metropolis of the Republic was captured, 
while gaunt distress raged every where within our bor- 
ders. Weary at last with this rude Trial, our Govern- 
ment appointed Commissioners to treat for Peace, under 
these specific instructions : ^' Your first duty will be to 
conclude peace with Great Britain, and you are author- 
ized to do it in case you obtain a satisfactory stipulation 
against impressment, one which shall secure under our 
flag protection to the crew. If this encroachment of 
Great Britain is not provided against, the United States 
have appealed to arms in vain.'''' * Afterwards, despair- 
ing of extorting from Great Britain a relinquishment of 
the unrighteous claim, and foreseeing only an accumu- 
lation of calamities from an inveterate prosecution of 
the War, our Government directed their negotiators, in 
concluding a treaty of Peace, " to omit any stipidation 
on the subject of impressment.'''' The instructions were 
obeyed, and the Treaty that once more restored to us 
the blessings of Peace, which we had rashly cast away, 
and which the country hailed with an intoxication of 
joy, contained no allusion to the subject of impressment, 
nor did it provide for the surrender of a single Ameri- 
can sailor detained in the service of the British navy, 
and thus, by the confession of our own Government, 
" the United States had appealed to arms in vain." 

All this is the natural result of an appeal to War., in 
order to establish justice. Justice implies the exercise 



* American State Papers, Vol. VII. p. 577. 
VOL. I. 3 



34 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

of the judgment in the determination o^ right. Now 
War not only supersedes the judgment, but delivers 
over the results to superiority o^ force or to chance. 

Superior Force may end in conquest ; indeed, this is 
its natural consequence ; but it cannot adjudicate any 
right. We expose the absurdity of its Arbitrament, 
when, by a familiar phrase of sarcasm, we speak of the 
right of the strongest — excluding, of course, all idea 
of right, except the right of the lion as he springs upon 
a weaker beast, of the wolf as he tears in pieces the 
lamb, of the vulture as he gorges upon the dove. The 
grossest spirits will admit that this is not justice. 

But the battle is not always to the strong, and even 
the superiority of Force is often checked by the pro- 
verbial contingencies of War. Especially are such 
contingencies revealed in rankest absurdity, where 
nations, as is their acknowledged custom., without re- 
gard to their respective forces, whether weaker or 
stronger, voluntarily appeal to this mad Umpirage. 
Who can measure beforehand the currents of the 
heady fight? In common language we speak of the 
chances of battle ; and soldiers whose lives are devoted 
to this harsh vocation, yet call it a game. The Great 
Captain of our age, who seemed to chain victory to his 
chariot wheels, in a formal address to his officers, on 
entering Russia, says : " In war, fortune has an equal 
share with ability in procuring success." * The mighty 
victory of Marengo, the accident of an accident, wrest- 
ed unexpectedly at the close of the day from a foe, 
who at an earlier hour was successful, had taught him 



* Alison, VIII. 346. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 85 

the uncertainty of War. Afterwards, in the bitterness 
of his spirit, when his immense forces had been shiv- 
ered, and his triumphant eagles driven back wilh broken 
wing, he exclaimed, in that remarkable conversation 
recorded by the Abbe de Pradt : " Well ! this is War. 
High in the morning, — low enough at night. From a 
triumph to a fall is often but a step."* The same 
sentiment is uttered by the militaiy historian of the 
Peninsular campaigns, when he says : " Fortune always 
asserts her supremacy in War, and often from a slight 
mistake, such disastrous consequences flow, that, in 
every age and in every nation, the uncertainty of wars 
has been proverbial ; " t and again, in another place, 
in considering the conduct of Wellington, he confesses : 
" A few hours' delay, an accident, a turn of fortune, 
and he would have been foiled ! ay ! but this is War, 
always dangerous and uncertain^ an ever-rolling wheel 
and armed with scythes." t And can intelligent man 
look for justice to an ever-rolling wheel armed with 
scythes ? 

Chance is written on every battle-field. It may be 
less discerned, in the conflict of large masses, than in 
the conflict of individuals, though equally present in both. 
How capriciously the wheel turned when the fortunes 
of Rome were staked on the combat between the Horatii 
and Curiatii ! — and who, at one time, could have au. 
gured that the single Horatius, with his two slain brothei-s 
on the field, would overpower the three living enemies ? 
But this is not alone. In all the combats of history, 
involving the fate of individuals or nations, we learn to 

* Alison, IX. 239. t Napier, IV. 687. i lb. IV. 477. 



36 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

revolt at the frenzy which carried questions of pro- 
perty, of freedom, or of life to a judgment so uncertain 
and senseless. 

During the early modern centuries, and especially 
in the moral night of the dark ages, the practice exten- 
sively prevailed throughout Europe, of submitting con- 
troversies, whether of individuals or communities, to 
this adjudication. I pass over the custorn of Private 
War, though it aptly illustrates the subject, stopping 
merely to join in that delight, which, — in a period of 
ignorance, before this mode of determining justice 
had gradually yielded to the ordinances of monarchs, 
and an advancing civilization, — hailed its temporary 
suspension, as The Truce of God ; and I come at once 
to the Judicial Cojiibat, or Trial by Battle. In this 
custom^ as in a mirror, we may behold the hideousness 
of War. 

The Trial by Battle was a formal and legitimate 
mode of deciding controversies, principally between 
individuals. Like the other ordeals, by burning plough- 
shares, by holding hot iron, by dipping the hand in hot 
water or hot oil — and hke the great Ordeal of War — 
it was a presumptuous appeal to Providence, under an 
apprehension and hope, that Pleaven would give the 
victory to him who had the right. Its object was pre- 
cisely the professed object of War, — the determination 
of Justice, It was sanctioned by Municipal Law as an 
Arbhramcnt for individuals, as War — to the scandal of 
civilization — is still sanctioned by International Lav/, 
as an Arbitrament for nations. Men, says the brilliant 
Frenchman, Montesquieu, subject to rules even their 
prejudices ; and the Trial by Battle was surrounded by 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 37 

artificial regulations of multifarious detail, constituting 
an extensive system, determining how and when it 
should be waged ; as War is surrounded by a complex 
code, known as the Laws of War. 

No question was too sacred, grave, or recondite for 
this Tribunal. The title of an abbey to a neighboring 
church, in France, was decided by it ; and an Emperor 
of Germany, according to a faithful ecclesiastic, " desi- 
rous of dealing honorably with his people and nobles," 
(mark here the standard of honor ! ) waived the judg- 
ment of the court on a grave question of law, as to the 
descent of property, and referred it to champions. 
Human folly did not stop here. In Spain a subtle point 
of theology was submitted to the same determination. 
But the Trial by Battle was not confined to particular 
countries or to rare occasions. It prevailed every- 
where in Europe, while in many places it superseded 
all other ordeals and even trial hy proofs., and was 
extended alike to criminal matters, and to questions of 
property. But like War in our day, its justice and 
fitness as an Arbitrament were early doubted or con- 
demned. Luitprand, a king of the Lombards, in Italy, 
during that middle period which belongs neither to an- 
cient nor to modern times, in a law bearing date 713, 
expresses his distrust of it as a mode of determining 
justice ; but the monarch is obliged to add that, on ac- 
count of the custom of his Lombard people, he cannot 
forbid the impious law. His words deserve emphatic 
mention : Propter consuetudinem gentis nostrfie Longo- 
bardorum legem impiam vetare non possumus.f The 

t Muratori, Rerum Itahc. Script, t. 2, p. 65. 



38 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

appropriate epithet by which he has branded the Tria[ 
by Battle is the important bequest of the royal Lombard 
law-giver to a distant posterity. For this his name will 
be cherished, with grateful regard, in the annals of 
civilization. 

This custom received another blow from Rome. At 
the latter part of the thirteenth century, Don Pedro, of 
Aragon, and Charles, of Anjou, having exchanged 
letters of defiance, the former proposed a personal com- 
bat, which was accepted by the latter, on condition that 
Sicily should be the prize of success.* Each called 
down upon himself all the vengeance of Heaven, and 
the last dishonor, if he failed to appear at the appointed 
time before the Seneschal of Acquitaine, or, in case of 
defeat, if he refused to consign Sicily undisturbed to 
the victor. While the two champions were preparing 
for the lists, the Pope, Martin IV., protested with all his 
power against this new Trial by Battle, which staked 
the sovereignty of a kingdom, a feudatory of the Holy 
See, on a wild stroke of chance. By a papal bull, 
dated at Civita Vecchia, April 5th, 1283, he threatened 
excommunication to either of the princes, who pro- 
ceeded to a combat which he pronounced criminal and 
abominable. And, by a letter of the same date, he 
announced to Edward I. of England, Duke of Acqui- 
taine, the agreement of the two princes, which he 
most earnestly declared to be full of indecency and 
rashness, hostile to the concord of Christendom, and 
careless of Christian blood ; and he urged upon the 

* Sismondi, Hisloire des Franc VIII. 333-340. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 39 

English monarch to spare no effort to prevent the com- 
bat — menacing him with excommunication, and his 
territories with interdict, if it should take place. Ed- 
ward refusing to guaranty the safety of the combatants 
in Acquitaine, the parties retired without consummating 
their duel. And the judgment of the Holy See, which 
thus accomplished its immediate object, though not 
in terms directed to the suppression of the custom of 
Trial by Battle, remains, nevertheless, from its peculiar 
energy of language, in perpetual testimony against it. 

To a monarch of France belongs the honor of first 
interposing the royal authority, for the entire suppres- 
sion within his jurisdiction of this impious custom^ so 
universally adopted, so dear to the nobility, and so pro- 
foundly rooted in the institutions of the Feudal Age. 
And here, let me pause with reverence, as I mention 
the name of St. Louis, a prince, whose unenlightened 
errors may find easy condemnation in our age of larger 
toleration and wider knowledge, but whose firm and 
upright soul, whose exalted sense of justice, whose 
fatherly regard for the happiness of his people, whose 
respect for the rights of others, whose conscience void 
of offence before God and man, make him foremost 
among Christian rulers, the highest example for a 
Christian prince or a Christian people, — a model of True 
Greatness. He was of conscience all-compact, subject- 
ing all that he did to the single and exclusive test of 
moral rectitude, disregarding all considerations of world- 
ly advantage, all fear of worldly consequences. 

His soul, thus tremblingly sensitive to questions of 
right, was shocked by the judicial combat. It was a 
sin, in his sight, thus to teinpt God, by demanding of 



40 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

him a miracle, whenever judgment was pronounced. 
From these intimate convictions sprung a royal Ordi- 
nance, first promulgated at a Parliament assembled 
in 12G0, in these words : " We forlicl to all persons 
throughout our dominions the Trial by Battle ; and^ 
instead of battles^ we establish proofs by icitnesses ; 
and we do not take away the other good and loyal 
proofs which have been used in lay courts to this day. 
* * * And these battles we abolish in 
our dominions for ever." * 

Such were the restraints on the royal authority, that 
this Ordinance did not extend to the demesnes of the 
barons and feudatories of the realm, being confined 
m its operation to those of the king. But where the 
power of St. Louis did not reach, there he labored by 
his example, his influence, and his express intercession. 
He treated with many of the great vassals of the crown, 
and induced them to renounce this unnatural usage. 
Though for many years later, France in some parts 
continued to be vexed by it, still its overthrow com- 
menced with the Ordinance of St. Louis. 

Honor and blessings attend the name of this truly 
Christian King ; who submitted all his actions to the 
Heaven-descended sentiment of duty ; who began a 
long and illustrious reign by renouncing and restoring a 
portion of the conquests of his predecessor, saying to 
those about him, whose souls did not ascend to the 
height of his morality, " 1 know that the predecessors of 
the King of England have lost by the right of conquest 
the land which I hold ; and the land which I give him, 

* Guizot, Histoire de la Civilization en France, IV. 162-164. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATION'S. 41 

I do not give because I am bound to him or his heirs, 
hut to put love between my chUdren and his children, 
who are cousins-german : and it seems to me that what 
I thus give, I employ to good purpose ! " * Honor to 
him who never grasped by force or cunning any new 
acquisition ; who never sought advantage from the 
turmoils and dissensions of his neighbors, but studied to 
allay them ; who, first of Christian Princes, rebuked 
the Spirit of War, saying to those who would have him 
profit by the dissensions of his neighbors, " Blessed are 
the Peacemakers : " who, by an immortal Ordinance, 
abolished Trial by Battle throughout his dominions; 
who aimed to do justice to all his people, and to all 
neighbors, and in the extremity of his last illness on the 
sickening sands of Tunis, among the bequests of his 
spirit, enjoined on his son and successor, " in maintain- 
ing justice to be inflexible and loyal, turning neither to 
the right hand nor to the left ! " t 

To condemn the Trial by Battle no longer requires 
the sagacity above his age of the Lombard monarch — 
the intrepid judgment of the Sovereign Pontiff, or the 
ecstatic soul of St. Louis. An incident of history, as 
curious as it is authentic, illustrates this point, and 
shows the certain progress of opinion. This custom, 
as a part of the common law of England, was par- 
tially restrained by Henry II., and rebuked at a later 
day by Elizabeth. But though it fell into desue- 
tude, quietly overruled by the enlightened sense of 
successive generations, yet, to the disgrace of Eng- 



* Guizot, Histoire de la Civilization en France, IV. 151. 
t Sismondij Histoire des Franc. VIII. 196. 



42 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

lish jurisprudence, it was not legislatively abolished till 
almost in our own day, — as late as 1817, — when the 
right to it had been openly claimed in Westminster 
Hall. An ignorant man charged with murder, — whose 
name, Abraham Thornton, is necessarily connected 
with the history of this monstrous usage, — being pro- 
ceeded against by the ancient process of appeal, pleaded, 
when brought into court, as follows : " Not guilty, and 
I am ready to defend the same by my body ; " and 
thereupon taking off his glove, he threw it upon the floor. 
The appellant, not choosing to respond to this chal- 
lenge, abandoned his proceedings. The bench, the bar, 
and the whole country were startled by the outrage ; 
and at the next session of parliament Trial by Battle 
was abolished in England. On introducing a bill for 
this purpose, the Attorney- General remarked in appro- 
priate words, that " if the party had persevered, he had 
no doubt the legislature would have felt it their imperi- 
ous duty to interfere, and pass an ex post facto law, to 
prevent so degrading a spectacle from taking place.'''' * 
These words aptly portray the impression which the 
Trial by Battle excites in our day. Its folly and wick- 
edness are apparent to all. As we revert to those 
early periods in which it prevailed, our minds are im- 
pressed by the general barbarism ; we recoil, with 
horror, from the awful subjection of justice to brute 
force ; from the impious profanation of God in deem- 
ing him present in these outrages ; from the moral 
degradation out of which they sprang, and which they 



* Annual Register, Vol. 61, p. 52 (1819) ; Blackstone, Com. III. 
337, Chilly's note. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 43 

perpetuated ; we involve ourselves in self-complacent 
virtue, and thank God that we are not as these men, 
that ours is, indeed, an age of light, while theirs was 
an age of darkness ! 

But do not forget, fellow-citizens, that this criminal 
and impious custom^ which we all condemn in the case 
of individuals, is openly avowed by our own country, 
and by the other countries of the great Christian 
Federation — nay, that it is expressly established by 
International Law — as a proper mode of determining 
justice between nations ; while the feats of hardihood 
by which it is waged, and the triumphs of its fields, 
are exalted beyond all other labors, whether of learn- 
ing, of industry, or of benevolence, as a well-spring of 
Glory. Alas ! upon our own heads and upon our own 
age, be the judgment of barbarism, which we pro- 
nounce upon those that have gone before ! At this 
moment, in this period of light, while the noon-day sun 
of civilization, to the contented souls of many, seems 
to be standing still in the heavens, as upon Gibeon, the 
relations between nations continue to be governed by 
the odious rules of brute violence, which once predomi- 
nated between individuals. The dark ages have not 
yet passed away; Erebus and black Night, born of 
Chaos, still brood over the earth ; nor can we hail the 
clear day, until the mighty hearts of the nations have 
been touched, as the hearts of individual men, and all 
shall acknowledge one and the same Law of Right. 

Who has told you, fond man ! thus to find Glory in 
an act — when performed by a nation — which you 
condemn as a crime or a barbarism when committed 
by an individual ! In what vain conceit of wisdom and 



44 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

virtue do you find this incongruous morality ? Where 
is it declared that God, who is no respecter of persons, 
is a respecter of muhitudes ? Whence do you draw 
these partial laws of a powerful and impartial God ? 
Man is immortal ; but States are mortal. He has a 
higher destiny than States. Can States be less amena- 
ble to the supreme moral law ? Each individual is an 
atom of the mass. Must not the mass, in its con- 
science, be like the individuals of which it is com- 
posed ? Shall the mass, in its relations with other 
masses, do what individuals in their relations with each 
other may not do ? Clearly not. As in the physi- 
cal creation, so in morals, there is but one law for 
individuals and masses. It was the lofty discovery of 
Newton, that the simple law, which determines the 
fall of an apple, prevails every where throughout the 
Universe — ruling each particle in reference to every 
other particle, whether large or small — reaching from 
the earth to the heavens, and controlling the infinite 
motions of the spheres ; so, with equal scope, another 
simple law, the Law of Right, which binds the indi- 
vidual, binds also two or three when gathered together 
— binds conventions and congregations of men — binds 
villages, towns, and cities — binds states, nations, and 
empires — clasps the whole human family in its seven- 
fold embrace ; nay more. 

Beyond the flaming bounds of place and time. 
The living- throne, the sapphire blaze, 

it binds the angels of Heaven, the Seraphim, full of 
love, the Cherubim, full of knowledge ; above all, it 
binds, in self-imposed bonds, a just and omnipotent 
God. This is the law, of which the ancient poet sings, 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 45 

as Queen alike of mortals and immortals. It is of this, 
and not of any earthly law, that Hooker speaks in that 
magnificent period which sounds like an anthem ; " Of 
law no less can be said, than that her seat is the bosom 
of God, her voice the harmony of the world ; all things 
in Heaven and earth do her homage, the very least as 
feeling her care, the greatest as not exempted from her 
power ; both angels and men, and creatures of what 
condition soever, though each in different sort and 
manner, yet all with uniform consent admiring her as 
the mother of their peace and joy." 

Stripped of all delusive apologies, and tried by this 
comprehensive law — under which nations are set to 
the bar like common men — War falls from Glory into 
barbarous guilt. It takes its place among bloody trans- 
gressions, while its flaming honors are turned into 
ignominy and shame. Painful as it may be to existing 
prejudices, we must learn to abhor it, as we abher 
similar transgressions by a vulgar offender. Every 
word of reprobation, which the enlightened conscience 
now fastens upon the savage combatant in the Trial by 
Battle, or which it applies to the unhappy being, who, 
in murderous duel, takes the life of his fellow-man, be- 
longs also to the nation that appeals to War. Amidst 
the thunders which made Sinai tremble, God declared, 
" Thou shall not kill ; " and the voice of these thunders, 
with this commandment, has been prolonged to our own 
day in the echoes of Christian churches. What mortal 
shall restrain the application of these words ? Who on 
earth is empowered to vary or abridge the command- 
ments of God ? Who shall presume to declare, that this 
injunction was directed, not to nations, but to Individ- 



46 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

uals only ; not to many, but to one only ; that one 
man may not kill, but that many may ; that it is for- 
bidden to each individual to destroy the life of a single 
human being, but that it is not forbidden to a nation to 
cut off by the sword a whole people ? We are struck 
with horror and our hair stands on end, at the report of 
a single murder ; we think of the soul that has been 
hurried to its final account ; we seek the murderer ; 
and the State puts forth all its energies to secure his 
punishment. Viewed in the unclouded light of truth, 
what is War but organized murder ; murder of malice 
aforethought ; in cold blood ; under the sanctions of an 
impious law ; through the operation of an extensive 
machinery of crime ; with innumerable hands ; at incal- 
culable cost of money ; by subtle contrivances of cun- 
ning and skill ; or amidst the fiendish atrocities of the 
savage brutal assault ? 
. The Scythian, undisturbed by the illusion of military 
Glory, snatched a phrase of justice from an acknowl- 
edged criminal, when he called Alexander " the great- 
est robber in the world." And the Roman satirist, 
filled with similar truth, in pungent words, touched to 
the quick that flagrant unblushing injustice which 
dooms to condign punishment the very guilt, that in 
another sphere, and on a grander scale, under the aus- 
pices of a nation, is hailed with acclamation. 

Ille crucem sceleris pretium tulit, hie diadema. 

Mankind, blind to the real character of War, while 
condemning the ordinary malefactor, may continue yet 
a little longer to crown its giant actors with Glory. A 
generous posterity may pardon to unconscious bar- 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 47 

barism the atrocities which tliey have waged ; but the 
whole custom — and it is of this that I speak — though 
sanctioned by existing law, cannot escape the unerring 
judgment of reason and religion. The outrages, which 
it madly permits and invokes for professed purposes of 
justice, cannot be authorized by any human power ; 
and they must rise in overwhelming judgment, not 
only against those who wield the weapons of Battle, but 
against all who uphold its monstrous Arbitrament. 

When, oh ! when shall the St. Louis of the Nations 
arise — the Christian ruler, or Christian people, who, in 
the spirit of True Greatness, shall proclaim, that 
henceforward forever the great Trial ly Battle shall 
cease ; that " these battles " shall be abolished through- 
out the Commonwealth of civilization ; that a spectacle 
so degrading shall never be allowed again to take 
place ; and that it is the duty of Nations, involving of 
course the highest policy, to establish love between 
each other, and, in all respects, at all times, with all 
persons, whether their own people or the people of 
other lands, to be governed by the sacred Law of 
Rights as between man and man. May God speed the 
coming of that day ! 

I have already alluded, in the early part of this 
Address, to some of the obstacles encountered by the 
advocate of Peace. One of these is the warlike tone 
of the literature, by which our minds are formed. The 
world has supped so full with battles, that all its inner 
modes of thought, and many of its rules of conduct 
seem to be incarnadined with blood ; as the bones of 
swine, fed on madder, are said to become red. But I 



48 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

now pass this by, though a fruitful theme, and hasten 
to other topics. I propose to consider in succession, 
very briefly, some of those prejudices, which are most 
powerful in keeping alive the custom of War. 

1. One of the most important of these is the preju- 
dice in its favor founded on the belief in its necessity. 
When War is called a necessity, it is meant, of course, 
that its object cannot be attained in any other way. 
Now I think that it has already appeared with distinct- 
ness, approaching demonstration, that the professed 
object of War, which is justice between nations, is in 
no respect promoted by War ; that force is not justice, 
nor in any way conducive to justice ; that the eagles 
of victory can be the emblems only of successful 
force, and not of established right. Justice can be 
obtained only by the exercise of the reason and judg- 
ment ; but these are silent in the din of arms. Justice 
is without passion ; but War lets loose all the worst 
passions of our nature, while " Chance, high arbiter, 
more embroils the fray." The age has passed in which 
a nation, within the enchanted circle of civilization, 
can make war upon its neighbor, for any professed 
purpose of booty or vengeance. It does " naught in 
hate, but all in honors There are professions of ten- 
derness even which mingle with the first mutterings of 
the dismal strife. As if conscience-struck at the crimi- 
nal abyss into which they are madly plunging, each of 
the great litigants seeks to fix on the other the charge 
of hostile aggression, and to assume to itself the ground 
of defending some right ; some stolen Texas ; some 
distant, worthless Oregon. Like Pontius Pilate, it vainly 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 49 

washes its hands of innocent blood, and straightway 
allows a crime at which the whole heavens are dark- 
ened, and two kindred countries are severed, as the veil 
of the Temple was rent in twain. 

The various modes, proposed for the determination 
of international disputes, are Negotiation, Mediation, 
Arbitration, and a Congress of Nations — all of them 
practicable and calculated to secure peaceful justice. 
These may be employed at any time under the exist- 
ing Law of Nations. But the very law itself, which 
sanctions War, may he changed — as regards two or 
more nations by treaty between them, and as regards 
all the Christian nations by general consent. If nations 
can agree together, in the solemn provisions of Inter- 
national Law, to establish War as an Arbiter of Justice 
between them, they can also agree together to abolish 
this Arbitrament, and to establish peaceful substitutes ; 
precisely as similar substitutes have been established 
by the municipal law in order to determine controversies 
among individuals. A system of Arbitration may be 
instituted by treaties, or a Congress of Nations may be 
charged with the high duty of organizing an Ultimate 
Tribunal instead of " these battles "' for the decision 
of international controversies. The will only is required 
in order to succeed in this work. 

Let it not be said, then, that War is a necessity ; and 
may our country aim at the True Glory of taking the 
lead in disowning the revolting system of International 
Lynch Law", and in proclaiming peaceful substitutes 
therefor, as the only proper modes of determining 
justice between nations ! Such a Glory, unlike the 

VOL. 1. 4 



50 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

earthly fame of battles, shall be immortal as the stars, 
dropping perpetual light upon the souls of men ! 

2. Another prejudice in favor of War is founded on 
the practice of nations^ past and present. There is no 
crime or enormity in morals, which may not find the 
support of human example, often on an extended scaje. 
But it cannot be urged in our day, that we are to look 
for a standard of duty in the conduct of vain, mistaken, 
fallible man. It is not in the power of man, by any 
subtle alchemy, to transmute wrong into right. Be- 
cause War is according to the practice of the world, 
it cannot follow that it is right. For ages the world 
worshipped false gods ; but these gods were not less 
false, because all bowed before them. At this moment 
the larger portion of mankind are Heathen ; but Hea- 
thenism is not true. It was once the practice of nations 
to slaughter prisoners of war ; but even the Spirit of 
War recoils now from this bloody sacrifice. In Sparta, 
theft, instead of being judged as a crime, was, by a per- 
verse morality, like War itself dignified into an art and 
an accomplishment ; like War, it was admitted into the 
system of youthful education ; and it was enlightened, 
like War also, by an instance of unconquerable firm- 
ness, which is a barbaric counterfeit of virtue. The 
Spartan youth, who allowed the stolen fox beneath his 
robe to eat into his heart, is an example of mistaken 
fortitude, not unlike that which we are asked to admire 
in the soldier. Other illustrations of this character 
crowd upon the mind ; but I will not dwell upon them. 
We turn with disgust from Spartan cruelty and the 
wolves of Taygetus ; from the awful cannibalism of 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 51 

the Feejee Islands : from the profane rites of innu- 
merable savages ; from the crushing Juggernaut ; from 
the Hindoo widow lighting her funeral pyre ; from the 
Indian dancing at the stake. But had not all these, in 
their respective places and days, like War, the sanction 
of established usage ? 

But it is often said ; " let us not be wiser than our 
fathers." Rather let us tr^- to excel our fathers in wis- 
dom. Let us imitate what in them was good, but not 
bind ourselves, as in the chains of Fate, by their imper- 
fect example. Principles are higher than human ex- 
amples. Examples may be followed when they accord 
with the admonitions of duty. But he is unwise and 
wicked, who attempts to lean upon these, rather than 
upon those truths, which, like the Everlasting Arm, 
cannot fail ! 

In all modesty be it said, we have lived to little pur- 
pose, if we are not wiser than the generations that 
have gone before us. It is the grand distinction of man 
that he is a progressive being ; that his reason at the 
present day is not merely the reason of a single human 
being, but that of the whole human race, in all a^es 
from which knowledge has descended, in all lands from 
which it has been borne away. We are the heirs to an 
inheritance of truth, grandly accumulating from genera- 
tion to generation. The child at his mother's knee is 
now taught the orbits of the heavenly bodies, 

Where worlds on worlds compose one Universe, 

the nature of this globe, the character of the tribes of 
men by which it is covered, and the geography of 
nations, to an extent far beyond the ken of tlie most 



52 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

learned of other days. It is, therefore, true, as has 
been said, that antiquity is the real infancy of man ; 
it is then that he is immature, ignorant, wayward, child- 
ish, selfish, finding his chief happiness in pleasures of 
sense, unconscious of the higher delights of knowledge, 
of justice, and of love. The animal part of his nature 
reigns supreme, and he is driven on by the gross im- 
pulses of force. He seeks contests, war and blood. 
But we arc advanced from the childhood of man ; rea- 
son and the kindlier virtues of age, repudiating and 
abhorring force, now Jibear sway. We are the true 
Ancients. The single lock on the battered forehead of 
Old Time is thinner now than when our fathers attempt- 
ed to grasp it ; the hour-glass has been turned often 
since ; the scythe is heavier laden with the work of 
death. 

Let us cease, then, to look for a lamp to our feet, in 
the feeble tapers that glimmer in the sepulchres of the 
Past. Rather let us hail those ever-burning lights 
above, in whose beams is the brightness of noon-day ! 

3. There is a topic which I approach with diffidence ; 
but in the spirit of frankness. It is the influence which 
War, though condemned by Christ, has derived from 
the Christian Church. When Constantino on one of 
his marches, at the head of his army, beheld the lumi- 
nous trophy of the cross in the sky right above the 
meridian sun, inscribed with these words, By this con- 
quer^ had his soul been penetrated by the true spirit of 
Him, whose precious symbol it was, he would have 
found in it no inspiration to the spear and the sword. 
He would have received the lesson of self-sacrifice, as 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 53 

from the lips of the Saviour, and would have learned 
that by no earthly weapons of battle can any true 
victory be won. The pride of conquest would have 
been rebuked, and the bauble sceptre of Empire would 
have fallen from his hands. By this conquer ; that is, 
by patience, suffering, forgiveness of evil, by all those 
virtues of which the cross is the affecting token, con- 
quer ; and the victory shall be greater than any in the 
annals of Roman conquest ; it may not find a place in 
the records of man ; but it shall appear in the register 
of everlasting life. 

The Christian Church, after the first centuries of its 
existence, failed to discern the peculiar spiritual beauty 
of the faith which it professed. Like Constantino, it 
found new incentives to War in the religion of Peace ; 
and such has been its character, let it be said fearlessly, 
even to our own day. The Pope of Rome, the asserted 
head of the church, the Vicegerent of Christ on earth, 
whose seal is a fisherman, on whose banner is a Lamb 
before the Holy Cross, assumed the command of 
ai'mies, often mingling the thundei-s of battle with the 
thunders of the Vatican. The dagger which projected 
from the sacred vestments of the Archbishop de Retz, 
as he appeared in the streets of Paris, was called by 
the crowd " the Archbishop's Missal." We read of 
mitred prelates in armor of proof, and seem still to 
catch the jingle of the golden spurs of the bishops 
in the streets of Cologne. The sword of knighthood 
was consecrated by the church ; and priests were often 
the expert masters in military exercises. I have seen 
at the gates of the Papal Palace in Rome, a constant 
guard of Swiss soldiers ; I have seen, too, in our own 



54 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

streets a show, as incongruous and as inconsistent, a 
pastor of a Christian church swelling by his presence 
the pomp of a military parade ! Ay ! more than this ; 
some of us have heard, within a few short weeks, in a 
Christian pulpit, from the lips of an eminent Christian 
divine, a sermon in which we are encouraged to serve 
the God of Battles^ and, as citizen soldiers, tojightfor 
Peace; — a sentiment, in unhappy harmony with the 
profane language of the British peer, when, in address- 
ing the House of Lords, he said, '' The best road to 
Peace, my Lords, is War; War carried on in the 
same manner in which we are taught to worship our 
Creator, namely, with all our souls, with all our minds, 
with all our hearts, and with all our strength ; " but 
which surely can find no support in the Religion of Him 
who has expressly enjoined, when one cheek is smitten 
to turn the other, and to which we listen with pain and 
mortification from the lips of one, who has voluntarily 
become a minister of Christian truth ; alas ! in his mind 
inferior to that of the Heathen, who declared that he 
preferred the unjustest peace to the justest icar.* 

Well may we be astonished, that now in an age of 
civilization the God of Battles should be invoked. Deo 



* Iniqiiissimam pacem,justissimo hello antefero^ are the words of 
Cicero. Only eight days after Franklin had placed his name to the 
Treaty of Peace, which acknowledged the independence of his coun- 
try, he wrote to a friend : " May we never see another war, for, in 
my opinion, there never was a good war, nor a bad peace." It was 
with sincere reluctance, that I here seemed by a particular allusion 
to depart for a moment from so great a theme ; but the person and 
the theme here become united. I cannot refrain from the effort to 
tear this iron branch of War from the golden tree of Christian truth, 
even though a voice come forth from the breaking bough. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 55 

imperante, quem adesse bellantibus creeunt, are the 
appropriate words of surprise, by which Tacitus de- 
scribes a similar savage superstition of the ancient Ger- 
mans.* The polite Roman did not think God present, to 
cheer those who fight in battle. And this Heathen super- 
stition must at last have lost something of its hold even 
in Germany ; for, at a recent period, her most renowned 
captain — whose false Glory procured for him from 
flattering courtiers and a barbarous world the title of 
Great — Frederick of Prussia said, with a commenda- 
ble frankness, that he always found the God of Battles 
on the side of the strongest regiments ; and when it 
was proposed to him to adopt as an inscription for his 
banner, soon to flout the sky of Silesia, " For God and 
Country," he rejected the first word, declaring that it 
was not proper to introduce the name of the Deity in 
the quarrels of men. By this Christian sentiment the 
war-worn monarch may be remembered, when the fame 
of his battles has passed away. 

And who is the God of Battles ! It is Mars ; man- 
slaying, blood-polluted, city-smiting Mars ! t Him we 
cannot adore. It is not He who binds the sweet influ- 
ences of the Pleiades, and looses the bands of Orion ; 
who causes the sun to shine on the just and the unjust; 
who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb ; who distils 
the oil of gladness upon every upright heart ; the foun- 
tain of Mercy and Goodness, the God of Justice and 
Love. The God of Battles is not the God of Chris- 
tians ; he is not Our Father in Heaven ; to him can 
ascend none of the prayers of Christian thanksgiving ; 

* De Moribus German, § 7. t Iliad, V. 31. 



liG THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

for him there can be no words of worship in Chris- 
tian temples ; no swelling anthem to peal the note of 
praise. 

And yet Christ and Mars are still brought into fellow- 
ship. Let us see them together. There is now float- 
ing in this harbor a ship of the line of our country. 
Many of you have, perhaps, pressed its deck, and ob- 
served with admiration the completeness which prevails 
in all its parts ; its lithe masts and complex net-work of 
ropes ; its thick wooden walls, within which are more 
than the soldiers of Ulysses ; its strong defences, and 
its numerous dread and rude-throated engines of War. 
There each Sabbath, amidst this armament of blood, 
while the wave comes gently plashing against the 
frowning sides, from a pulpit supported by a cannon, 
or by the side of a cannon, in repose now, but ready to 
awake its dormant thunder, charged with death, a 
Christian preacher addresses the officers and crew ! 
May his instructions carry strength and succor to their 
souls ! But he cannot pronounce in such a place, 
those highest words of the Master he professes, " Bless- 
ed are the Peace-makers ; " " Love your Enemies ; " 
'' Render not evil for evil." Like Macbeth's "Amen," 
they must stick in his throat. 

It cannot be doubted that this strange and unblessed 
conjunction of the Christian clergy with War, has had 
no little influence in blinding the world to the truth now 
beginning to be recognized, that Christianity forhids 
the whole custom of War, 

Individual interests are mingled with prevailing errors, 
and are concerned in maintaining them to such an 
extent, that it is not suprising that military men yield 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 57 

reluctantly to this truth. They are naturally in this 
matter, like lawyers, according to Voltaire, " the con- 
servators of ancient barbarous usages ; " but that these 
usages, — especially that the impious custom of War — 
should obtain countenance in the Christian church is 
one of those anomalies, which make us feel the weak- 
ness of our nature and the elevation of Christian truth, 
^'^t is important to observe, as an unanswerable fact of 
history, that for some time after the Apostles, while the 
lamp of Christianity burnt pure and bright, not only the 
Fathers of the church held it unlawful for Christians to 
bear arms, but those who came within its pale abstained 
from the use of arms, although at the cost of their 
lives, thus renouncing not only the umpirage of War, 
but even the right of self-defence. Marcellus, the Cen- 
turion, threw down his military belt at the head of the 
legion, and in the face of the standards declared with a 
loud voice, that he would no longer serve in the army, 
for he had become a Christian ; and many others fol- 
lowed his example. It was not until Christianity be- 
came corrupted, that its followers became soldiers, and 
its priests learned to minister at the altar of the God of 
Battles. 

Thee to defend the Moloch priest prefers 
The prayer of Hate, and bellows to the herd 
That Deity, accomplice Deity, 
In the fierce jealousy of waked wrath, 
Will go forth with our armies and our fleets 
To scatter the red ruin on our foes ! 
O blasphemy ! to mingle fiendish deeds 
With blessedness ! * 



* Religious Musings by Coleridge, written Christmas Eve of 
1794. 



58 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

The sanctions of religion are now thrown about the 
very Arbitrament of War. By sermon and prayer, 
the name of Christ is pressed into the retinue of this 
wicked custom ; and the chosen ministers of the Prince 
of Peace, careless of his example and of his precepts, 
continue to mingle in all its pomps, its observances 
and its battles. When alas ! will they learn to look for 
their faith, — not to human exaniples, not to the ideas, 
prejudices and practices of the crowd by which they 
are surrounded, — but to the Master whom they vainly 
acknowledge, and to the sacred written Word from 
which they imperfectly preach ! 

One of the beautiful pictures, adorning the dome of 
a church in Rome, by that master of art, whose immor- 
tal colors breathe as with the voice of a poet, the Divine 
Raffaelle, represents Mars, in the attitude of War, with 
a drawn sword uplifted and ready to strike, while an 
unarmed Angel from behind, with gentle but irresisti- 
ble force, arrests and holds the descending arm. Such 
is the true image of Christian duty ; nor can I readily 
perceive the difference in principle between those min- 
isters of the Gospel, who themselves gird on the sword, 
as in the olden time, and those others, who, unarmed, 
and in customary suit of solemn black, lend the sanc- 
tion of their presence to the martial array, or to any 
form of Preparation for War. The drummer, who 
pleaded that he did not fight, was held more responsible 
for the battle than the mere soldier; for it was the 
sound of his drum that inflamed the flagging courage 
of the troops.^ 

4. From the prejudices engendered by the Church, I 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 59 

pass to the prejudices engendered by the army itself ; 
prejudices having their immediate origin more particu- 
larly in military life, but unfortunately diffusing them- 
selves, in widening though less apparent circles, through- 
out the community. I allude directly to what is called 
the poirit of honor, early child of chivalry, the living 
representative in our day of an age of barbarism. It is 
difficult to define what is so evanescent, so impalpable, 
so chimerical, so unreal ; and yet which exercises such 
fiendish power over many men, and controls the re- 
lations of States. As a little water, fallen into the 
crevice of a rock, under the congelation of winter, 
swells till it bursts the thick and stony fibres ; so a 
word, or a slender act, dropping into the heart of man, 
under the hardening influence of this pernicious senti- 
ment, dilates till it rends in pieces the sacred depository 
of human affections, while the demons Hate and Strife, 
no longer restrained, are let loose abroad. The musing 
Hamlet saw the strange and unnatural potency of this 
sentiment, when his soul pictured to his contempla- 
tions 

-■ the army of such mass and charge, 

Led by a delicate and tender prince, 
Exposing what is mortal and unsure 
To all that fortune, death, and danger, dare 
Even for an egg-shell; 

and when he says, with a point which has given to the 
sentiment its strongest and most popular expression, 



Rightly to be great 



Is not to stir without great argument ; 
But greatbj tojind quarrel in a straxo 
When honor 's at the stake. 

And when is Honor at stake } This question opens 



60 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

again the views with which I commenced, and with 
which I hope to close this discourse. Honor can be at 
stake only where justice and beneficence are at stake ; 
it can never depend on an egg-shell, or a straw ; it can 
never depend on an impotent word of anger or folly, 
not even if that word be followed by a blow. In fine, 
True Honor is to be found in the highest moral and 
intellectual excellence, in the dignity of the human 
soul, in the nearest approach to those qualities which 
we reverence as the attributes of God. Our community 
frowns with indignation upon the profaneness of the 
duel, which has its rise in this irrational point of honor. 
But are they aware that they themselves indulge the 
sentiment, on a gigantic scale, when they recognize 
what is called the lionor of the country, as a proper 
ground for War ? We have already seen that justice 
is in no respect promoted by War. Is True Honor 
promoted where justice is not? 

But the very word Honor, as used by the world, fails 
to express any elevated sentiment. How infinitely 
below the sentiment of duty ! It is a word of easy 
virtue, that has been prostituted to the most opposite 
characters and transactions. From the field of Pavia, 
where France suffered one of the greatest reverses in 
her annals, Francis writes to his mother : " All is lost 
except honory At a later day, the renowned cook, 
the grand Vatel, in a paroxysm of grief and mortifica- 
tion at the failure of two dishes expected on the table, 
exclaims, " I have lost my lionor^ Montesquieu, 
whose writings are a constellation of epigrams, places 
it in direct contrast with virtue. He represents what 
he calls the prejudice of Honor as the animating 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 61 

principle of monarchy, while virtue is the animating 
principle of a republic ; saying that in well governed 
monarchies almost everybody will be a good citizen, 
but it will be rare to meet with a really good man. By 
an instinct that points to the truth, we do not apply this 
term to the high columnar virtues which sustain and 
decorate life, to parental affection, to justice, to the 
attributes of God. He would seem to borrow a worldly 
phrase, showing a slight appreciation of the distinctive 
qualities for which they are reverenced, who should 
speak of a father, a mother, a judge, an angel or of 
God, as persons of honor. In such sacred connections 
we feel, beyond the force of any argument, the unworthy 
character of the sentiment to which this term refers. 

The degrading rule of honor is founded in the 
imagined necessity of resenting by force a supposed 
injury, whether by word or act. But admit that such 
an injury is received, falsely seeming to sully the char- 
acter ; is it wiped away by a resort to force, and thus 
descending to the brutal level of its author ? " Could I 
have wiped your blood from my conscience as easily as I 
can this insult from my face," said a Marshal of France, 
greater on this occasion than on any field of fame, " I 
would have laid you dead at my feet." It is Plato, re- 
porting the angelic wisdom of Socrates, who declares 
in one of those beautiful dialogues, which shine with 
stellar light across the ages, that it is more shameful 
to do a wrong than to receive a wrong* And this 
benign sentiment commends itself, alike to the Chris- 



* This proposition is enforced by Socrates with unanswerable 
reasonincr and illustration, throughout the whole of the Gor"ias. 



62 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

tian who is told to render good for evil, and to the uni- 
versal heart of man. But who that confesses its truth, 
can vindicate a resort to force, for the sake of lionor ? 
Better far to receive the blow that a false morality has 
thought degrading, than that it should be revenged by- 
force. Better that a nation, like an individual, should 
submit to what is wrong, rather than vainly seek to 
maintain its honor by the crime of War. 

It seems that in ancient Athens, as in unchristianized 
Christian lands, there were sophists who urged that to 
suffer was unbecoming a man, and would draw down 
upon him incalculable evils. The following passage 
will show the manner in which the moral cowardice of 
these persons of little faith was rebuked by him, whom 
the Gods pronounced wisest of men : " These things 
being so, let us inquire what it is you reproach me 
with ; whether it is well said, or not, that I, forsooth, 
am not able to assist either myself, or any of my 
friends or my relations, or to save them from the great- 
est dangers, but that, like the outlaws, 1 am at the 
mercy of any one, who may choose to smite me on the 
temple — and this was the strong point in your argu- 
ment — or to take away my property, or to drive me 
out of the city, or (to take the extreme case) to kill me ; 
now, according to your argument, to be so situated is 
the most shameful thing of all. But my view is — a 
view many times expressed already, but there is no ob- 
jection to its being stated again, — my vieio, I say, is, 
O Callicles, thai to he struck unjustly on the temple is 
not most shameful^ nor to have my body mutilated, nor 
my purse cut ; hut to strike me and mine unjustly, and 
to mutilate me and to cut my purse is more shameful 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 63 

and worse ; and stealing too, and enslaving, and Jiouse- 
hreaking, arid in general, doing any lorong ivhaiever to 
me and mine is more sliaineful and icorse for him luho 
does the wrong, than for me icho suffer it. These 
things thus established in the former arguments, as I 
maintain, are secured and bound, even if the expres- 
sion be somewhat too rustical, with iron and adaman- 
tine arguments, and unless you, or some one more 
vigorous than you, can break them, it is impossible for 
any one, speaking otherwise than I now speak, to speak 
well : since for my part, I always have the same thing 
to say, that I knoio not how these things are, hut that of 
all ivhom I have ever discoursed with as noiv, not one 
is able to say otherwise without being ridiculous.'''' 
Such is the wisdom of Socrates ; and it has found a 
beautiful expression in the verse of an English poet, who 
says ; 

Dear as freedom is and in my heart's just 

Esteem prized above all price, myself 

Had rather be the slave, and wear the chains, 

Tlian fasten them on him. 

But the modern point of honor does not find a place 
in warlike antiquity. Themistocles at Salamis did not 
send a cartel to the Spartan commander, when threat- 
ened by a blow. " Strike, but hear," was the response 
of that firm nature, which felt that True Honor was 
gained only in the performance of duty. It was in the 
depths of modern barbarism, in the age of chivalry, 
that this sentiment shot up in the wildest and most exu- 
berant fancies ; not a step was taken without reference 
to it ; no act was done which had not some point tend- 
ing to the " bewitching duel ;" and every stage in the 



64 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

combat, from the ceremonies of its beginning, to its 
deadly close, were measured by this fantastic law. 
Nobody can forget the humorous picture of the progress 
of a quarrel to a duel, through the seven degrees of 
Touchstone, in As You Like it. But the degradation, 
in which the law of Jw?io7^ has its origin, may be best 
illustrated by an authentic incident from the life of its 
most brilliant representative. The Chevalier Bayard, 
the cynosure of chivalry, the knight without fear and 
without reproach, in a contest with the Spaniard Don 
Alonzo de Soto Mayor, by a feint struck him such a 
blow in the throat, that despite the gorget, the weapon 
penetrated four fingers deep. The wounded Spaniard, 
gasping and struggling with his adversary, they both 
rolled on the ground, when Bayard, drawing his dagger, 
and thrusting its point in the nostrils of his foe, ex- 
claimed, " Senor Alonzo, surrender, or you are a dead 
man ; " a speech which appeared superfluous, as his 
second cried out, " Senoi^ Bayard, he is dead ; you 
have conquered." Bayard would have given one hun- 
dred thousand crowns for the opportunity to spare that 
life ; but he now fell upon his knees, kissed the ground 
three times, and then dragged his dead enemy out of 
the camp, saying to the second, " Senor Don Diego, 
have I done enough .^ " To which the other piteously 
replied, " too much, Senor, for the honor of Spain ! " 
when Bayard very generously presented him with the 
corpse, although it was his right, by the laws of honor. 
to dispose of it as he thought proper ; an act which 
is highly commended by the chivalrous Brantome, who 
thinks it difficult to say which did most honor to the 
faultless knight — not having ignominiously dragged the 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. bO 

body like the carcass of a dog by a leg out of the field, 
or having condescended to fight while laboring under 
an ague ! 

If such a transaction conferred Iwnor on the bright- 
est son of chivalry, we may understand therefrom 
something of the real character of that age, the depar- 
ture of which has been lamented with such touching 
but inappropriate eloquence. Do not condescend to 
draw a comprehensive rule of conduct from a period 
like this. Let the fanaticism of honor stay with the dag- 
gers, the swords and the weapons of combat by which 
it was guarded ; let it appear only with its inseparable 
American companions, the bowie-knife, and the pistol ! 

Be our standard of conduct derived, not from the 
degradation of our nature, though it affect the sem- 
blance of sensibility and refinement, but let it find its 
sources in the loftiest attributes of man, in truth, in jus- 
tice, in duty ; and may this standard, while governing 
our relations to each other, be recognized also among the 
nations ! Alas ! when shall we behold the dawning of 
that happy day, harbinger of infinite happiness beyond, 
in which nations, like individuals, shall feel that it is 
better to receive a wrong than to do a wrong. 

Apply this principle to our relations at this moment 
with England. Suppose that proud monarchy, refusing 
all submission to Negotiation or Arbitration, should ab- 
sorb the whole territory of Oregon into her own over- 
grown dominions, and add, at the mouih of the Columbia 
River, a new morning drum-beat to the national airs 
with which she has encircled the earth ; who, then, is 
in the attitude of Truest Honor, England appropriating, 

VOL. 1. 5 



66 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

by an unjust act, what is not her own, or the United 
States, the victim of the injustice ? 

5. There is still another influence which stimulates 
War, and interferes with the natural attractions of Peace ; 
I refer to a selfish and exaggerated Jove of country^ 
leading to its physical aggrandizement, and political ex- 
altation, at the expense of other countries, and in disre- 
gard of the principles of True Greatness. Our minds, 
nursed by the literature of antiquity, have imbibed the 
narrow sentiment of heathen patriotism. Exclusive 
love for the land of birth, was a part of the religion of 
Greece and Rome. It is an indication of the lowness 
of their moral nature, that this sentiment was so mate- 
rial as well as exclusive in its character. The Oracle 
directed the returning Roman to kiss his mother, and he 
kissed the Mother Earth. Agamemnon, according to 
^schylus, on regaining his home, after a perilous sepa- 
ration of more than ten years, at the seige of Troy, 
before addressing his family, his friends, his country- 
men, first salutes Argos : 

By your leave, Lords, first Argos I salute. 
The school-boy cannot forget the cry of the victim of 
Verres, which was to stay the descending fasces of the 
lictor, " I am a Roman chizen ; " nor those other v.ords 
echoing through the dark Past, " How sweet it is to die 
for one's country ! " The Christian cry did not rise, 
" I am a man ; " the Christian ejaculation did not swell 
the soul, " How sweet it is to die for duty ! " The 
beautiful genius of Cicero, at times instinct with truth 
almost divine, did not ascend to that highest heaven, 
where is taught, that all mankind are neighbors and 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 67 

kindred, and that the relations of fellow-countryman 
are less holy than those of fellow-man. To the love 
of universal man may be applied those words by which 
the great Roman elevated his selfish patriotism to a vir- 
tue when he said, that country alone enihraced all the 
charities uf all.* Attach this admired phrase for a 
moment to the single idea of country, and you will see 
how contracted are its charities, compared with the 
world-wide circle of Christian love, whose neighbor is 
the suffering man, though at the farthest pole. Such a 
sentiment would dry up those fountains of benevolence, 
which now diffuse themselves in precious waters in dis- 
tant unenlightened lands, bearing the blessings of truth 
to the icy mountains of Greenland, and the coral islands 
of the Pacific sea. 

It has been a part of the policy of rulers, to encour- 
age this exclusive patriotism ; and the people of modern 
times have all been quickened by the feeling of anti- 
quity. I do not know that any one nation is in a con- 
dition to reproach another with this patriotic selfishness. 
All are selfish. j\Ien are taught to live, not for man- 
kind, but only for a small portion of mankind. The 
pride, vanity, ambition, brutality even, w^hich we rebuke 
in individuals, are accounted virtues when displayed in 
the name of country. Among us, the sentiment is 
active, while it derives new force from the point with 
w^iich it has been expressed. An olTicer of our Navy, 
one of the so-called heroes nurtured by War, whose 

* De Offic. Lib. I. Cap. 17. It is curious to observe how Cicero 
puts aside that expression of true Humanity, whicii fell from 
Terence, Humani ni/iU a vie alicnum puio. He says, Est enim dif- 
ficilis cura rerum alienarum. De OfRc. Lib. I, Cap. 9. 



68 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

name has been praised in churches, has gone beyond 
all Greek, all Roman example. " Our country, le she 
right or wrong,'''' was his exclamation ; a sentiment 
dethroning God and enthroning the devil, whose flagi- 
tious character should be rebuked by every honest 
heart. Unlike this ofiicer was the virtuous Andrew 
Fletcher of Saltoun, in the days of the English Revo- 
lution, of whom it was said, that he " would lose his life, 
to serve his country, but would not do a base thing to 
save it." " Our country, our whole country, and ?ioth- 
ing hit our country,'''' are other words which, falling 
first from the lips of an eminent American, have often 
been painted on banners, and echoed by the voices of 
innumerable multitudes. Cold and dreary, narrow and 
selfish, would be this life, if nothing hut our country 
occupied our souls ; if the thoughts that wander through 
eternity, if the infinite affections of our nature, were 
restrained to that spot of earth where we have been 
placed by the accident of birth. 

I do not inculcate indifFerence to country. We incline 
by a natural sentiment, to the spot where we were 
born, to the fields that witnessed the sports of child- 
hood, to the seat of youthful studies, and to the institu- 
tions under which we have been trained. The finger 
of God writes all these things in indelible colors upon 
the heart of man, so that in the anxious extremities of 
death, he reverts in fondness to early associations, and 
longs for a draught of cold water from the bucket in 
his father's well. This sentiment is independent of re- 
flection, for it begins before reflection, grows with our 
growth, and strengthens with our strength. It is blind 
in its nature ; and it is the duty of each of us to take 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 69 

care that it does not absorb and pervert the whole char- 
acter. In the moral night which has enveloped the 
world, nations have lived ignorant and careless of the 
interests of others, which they imperfectly saw ; but the 
thick darkness is now scattered, and we begin to dis- 
cern, all gilded by the beams of morning, the distant 
mountain-peaks of other lands. We find that God has 
not placed us on this earth alone ; that there are others, 
equally with us, children of his protecting care. 

The curious spirit goes further, and while recognizing 
an inborn sentiment of attachment to the place of birth, 
inquires into the nature of the allegiance due to the 
State. According to the old idea, still too much re- 
ceived, man is made for the State, and not the State 
for man. Far otherwise is the truth. The State is an 
artificial body, intended for the security of the people. 
How constantly do we find, in human history, that the 
people have been sacrificed for the State ; to build the 
Roman name, to secure to England the trident of the 
sea. This is to sacrifice the greater for the less ; 
for the False Grandeur of earth to barter life and the 
soul itself. Is it not clear, that no dominion of the 
State — not even the State itself — is worth preserving 
at the cost of the lives and happiness of the people ? 

It is not that I love country less, but Humanity more, 
that now, on this National Anniversary, I plead the 
cause of a higher and truer patriotism. Remember 
that you are men, by a more sacred bond than you are 
citizens; that you are children of a common Father 
more than you are Americans. 

Recognizing God as a common Father, the seeming 
divert, ties of nations — separated only by the accident 



70 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

of mountains, rivers, and seas, into those distinctions 
around which cluster the associations of country — all 
disappear, and the various people of the globe stand 
forth as brothers — members of one great Human 
Family. Discord in this family is treason to God ; while 
all War is nothing else than civil war. In vain do w^e 
restrain this odious term, importing so much of horror, 
to the petty dissensions of a single State. It belongs 
as justly to the feuds between nations, when referred 
to the umpirage of battle. The soul trembles aghast, 
as we contemplate fields drenched in fraternal gore, 
where the happiness of homes has been shivered by 
the unfriendly arms of neighbors, and kinsmen have 
sunk beneath the steel nerved by a kinsman's hand. 
This is civil war, which stands accursed forever in 
the calendar of time. But the IMuse of History, in 
the faithful record of the future transactions of nations, 
inspired by a new and loftier justice, and touched to 
finer sensibilities, shall extend to the general sor- 
rows of Universal Man the sympathy still profusely 
shed for the selfish sorrow of country, and shall 
pronounce inter Jiational War to he civil icar^ and the 
partakers in it as traitors to God and enemies to 
man. 

^* 6. I might here pause, feeling that those of my 
hearers who have kindly accompanied me to this stage, 
would be ready to join in the condemnation of War, 
and hail peace, as the only condition becoming the dig- 
nity of human nature, and in which True^Greatness can 
be achieved. But there is still one other consideration, 
which yelds to none of the rest in importance ; perhaps 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 71 

it is more important than all. It is at once cause and 
effect ; the cause of much of the feeling in favor of 
War, and the effect of this feeling. I refer to the costly 
PREPARATIONS FOR VVar, in time of Peace. And here is 
one of the great practical evils which requires an imme- 
diate remedy. Too much time cannot be taken in ex- 
posing its character. 

I do not propose to dwell upon the immense cost of 
War itself. That will be present to the minds of all, in 
the mountainous accumulations of debt, piled like Ossa 
upon Pelion, with which Europe is pressed to the 
earth. According to the most recent tables to which 
I have had access, the public debt of the different Eu- 
ropean States, so far as it is known, amounts to the 
terrific sum of $6,387,000,000, all of this the growth of 
War ! It is said that there are throughout these states, 
17,900,000 paupers, or persons subsisting at the ex- 
pense of the country, without contributing to its re- 
sources. If these millions of the public debt, forming 
only a part of what has been w^asted in War, could be 
apportioned among these poor, it would give to each 
of them $375, a sum which would place all above 
want, and which is about equal to the average value of 
the property of each inhabitant of Massachusetts. 

The public debt of Great Britain reached in 1839 to 
84,265,000,000, the growth of War since 1688 ! This 
amount is nearly equal to the sum-total, according to 
the calculations of Humboldt, of all the treasures which 
have been reaped from the harvest of gold and silver in 
the mines of Spanish America, including Mexico and 
Peru, since the first discovery of our hemisphere by 



72 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Christopher Columbus ! It is much larger than the 
mass of all the precious metals, which at this moment 
form the circulating medium of the world ! It is some- 
times rashly said by those who have given little atten- 
tion to this subject, that all this expenditure was widely 
distributed, and therefore beneficial to the people ; but 
this apology does not bear in mind that it was not be- 
stowed in any productive industry, or on any useful ob- 
ject. The magnitude of this waste will appear by a 
contrast with other expenditures ; the aggregate capital 
of all the joint stock companies in England, of which 
there was any known record in 1842, embracing canals, 
docks, bridges, insurance companies, banks, gas-lights, 
water, mines, railways, and other miscellaneous objects, 
was about $835,000,000 ; a sum which has been de- 
voted to the welfare of the people, but how much less 
in amount than the War Debt ! For the six years end- 
ino" in 1836, the average payment for the interest on 
this debt was about $140,000,000 annually. If we 
add to this sum, $60,000,000 during this same period 
paid annually to the army, navy and ordnance, we shall 
have $200,000,000 as the annual tax of the English 
people, to pay for former wars and to prepare for new. 
During this same period there was an annual appropria- 
tion of only $20,000,000 for all the civil purposes of 
the Government. It thus appears that War absorbed 
ninety cents of every dollar that was pressed by heavy 
taxation from the English people, who almost seem to 
sweat blood ! What fabulous monster, or chimera dire, 
ever raged with a maw so ravenous ! The remaining 
ten cents sufficed to maintain the splendor of the throne, 
the administration of justice, and the diplomatic rela- 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 73 

tioDS with foreign powers, in short, all the proper ob- 
jects of a Christian State.* 

Thus much for tlie general cost of War. Let us 
now look exclusively at the Preparations for War in 
time of peace. It is one of the miseries of War, that, 
even in peace, its evils continue to be felt by the 
worlds beyond any other evils by which poor suffering 
Humanity is oppressed. If Bellona withdraws from 
the field, we only lose the sight of her flaming torches ; 
the bay of her dogs is heard on the mountains, and 
civilized man thinks to find protection from their sud- 
den fury, only by enclosing himself in the barbarous 
armor of battle. At this moment the Christian nations, 
worshipping a symbol of common brotherhood, live as 
in entrenched camps, in which they keep armed watch, 
to prevent surprise from each other. Recognising the 
custom of War as a proper Arbiter of Justice, they hold 
themselves perpetually ready for the bloody umpirage. 

It is difficult, if not impossible, to arrive at any exact 
estimate of the cost of these Preparations, ranging 
under four different heads ; the Standing Army ; the 
Navy ; the Fortifications and Arsenals ; and the Militia 
or irregular troops. 

The number of soldiers now affecting to keep the 
peace of European Christendom, as a Standing Army^ 
without counting the Navy, is upwards of two millions. 
Some estimates place it as high as three millions. The 
army of Great Britain exceeds 300,000 men ; that of 

* I have relied here and in subsequent pages upon McCulloch's 
Commercial Dictionary ; The Kdinhurgh Geography, founded on the 
works of Make Brun and Balbi ; and the calculations of Mr. Jay in 
Peace and War, p. 10, and in his Address before the Peace Society, 
pp. 28, 29. 



74 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

France 350,000 ; that of Russia 730,000, and is reck- 
oned by some as high as 1,000,000; that of Austria 
275,000 ; that of Prussia 150,000. Taking the smaller 
number, suppose these two millions to require for their 
annual support an average sum of only $150 each, the 
result would be 8300,000,000, for their sustenance 
alone ; and reckoning one officer to ten soldiers, and 
allowing to each of the latter an English shilling a day, 
or $81 a year, for wages, and to the former an average 
salary of $500 a year, we should have for the pay of 
the whole no less than 8256,000,000, or an appalling 
sum-total for both sustenance and pay of 8556,000,000. 
If the same calculation be made, supposing the forces 
to amount to three millions, the sum-total will be 
$835,000,000 ! But to this enormous sum another 
still more enormous must be added on account of the 
loss sustained by the withdrawal of two millions of 
hardy, healthy men, in the bloom of life, from useful, 
productive labor. It is supposed that it costs an aver- 
age sum of $500 to rear a soldier ; and that the value 
of his labor, if devoted to useful objects, would be $150 
a year. The Christian Powers, therefore, in setting 
apart two millions of men, as soldiers, sustain a loss 
of 81,000,000,000 on account of their training; and 
8300,000,000 annually, an account of their labor, in 
addition to the millions already mentioned as annually 
expended for sustenance and pay. So much for the 
cost of the standing army of European Christendom 
in time of Peace. 

Glance now at the Navy of European Christendom. 
The Royal Navy of Great Britain consists at present of 
557 ships of all classes ; but deducting such as are used 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. /D 

for convict ships, floating chapels, coal depots, the effi- 
cient navy consists of 88 sail of the line ; 109 frigates ; 
190 small frigates, corvettes, brigs and cutters, includ- 
ing packets ; 65 steamers of various sizes ; 3 troop- 
ships and yachts ; in all 455 ships. Of these there were 
in commission in 1839, 190 ships, carrying in all 4,202 
guns. The number of hands employed was 34,465. 
The Navy of France, though not comparable in size 
with that of England, is of vast force. By royal ordi- 
nance of 1st January, 1837, it was fixed in time of 
peace at 40 ships of the line, 50 frigates, 40 steamers, 
and 190 smaller vessels ; and the amount of crews in 
1839, was 20,317 men. The Russian Navy consists 
of two large fleets in the Gulf of Finland and the Black 
Sea ; but the exact amount of their force and their 
available resources has been a subject of dispute among 
naval men and poUticians. Some idea of the size of 
the navy may be derived from the number of hands 
employed. The crews of the Baltic fleet amounted in 
1837, to not less than 80,800 men; and those of the 
fleet in the Black Sea to 19,800, or altogether 50,600. 
The Austrian navy consisted in 1S37, of 8 ships of the 
line, 8 frigates, 4 sloops, 6 brigs, 7 schooners or gal- 
leys, and a number of smaller vessels ; the number of 
men in its service in 1839, was 4,547. The Navy of 
Denmark consisted at the close of 1837, of 7 ships of 
the line, 7 frigates, 5 sloops, brigs, 3 schooners, 5 cut- 
ters, 58 gun-boats, 6 gun-rafts, and 3 bomb vessels, re- 
quiring about 6,500 men to man them. The Navy of 
Sweden and Norway consisted recently of 238 gun- 
boats, 1 1 ships of the line, 8 frigates, 4 corvettes, G 
brigs, with several smaller vessels. The Navy of 



76 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Greece consists of 3'2 ships of war, carrying 190 guns, 
and 2,400 men. The Navy of Holland in 1839 con- 
sisted of 8 ships of the line, 21 frigates, 15 corvettes, 
21 brigs, and 95 gun-boats. Of the immense cost of 
all these mighty Preparations for War, it is impossi- 
ble to give any accurate idea. But we may lament 
that means, so gigantic, should be applied by European 
Christendom to the erection, in time of Peace, of such 
superfluous wooden walls ! 

In the Fortifications and Arsenals of Europe, crown- 
ing every height, commanding every valley, and frown- 
ing over every plain and every sea, wealth beyond 
calculation has been sunk. Who can tell the immense 
sums that have been expended in hollowing out, for the 
purposes of War, the living rock of Gibraltar ? Who 
can calculate the cost of all the Preparations at Wool- 
wich, its 27,000 cannons, and its hundreds of thousands 
of small arms ? France alone contains upwards of one 
hundred and twenty fortified places. And it is sup- 
posed that the yet unfinished fortifications of Paris have 
cost upward o^ fifty millions of dollars ! 

The cost of the Militia or irregular troops, the Yeo- 
manry of England, the National Guards of Paris, and 
the Landicehr and Landsturm of Prussia, must add 
other incalculable sums to these enormous amounts. 

Turn now to the United States, separated by a broad 
ocean from immediate contact with the great powers of 
Christendom, bound by treaties of amity and commerce 
with all the nations of the earth ; connected with all by 
the strong ties of mutual interest ; and professing a de- 
votion to the principles of Peace. Are the Treaties of 
Amity mere words ? Are the relations of commerce 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 7/ 

and mutual interest mere things of a day ? Are tlie 
professions of Peace vain ? Else why not repose in 
quiet, unvexed by Preparations for War ? 

Enormous as are the expenses of this character in 
Europe, those in our own country are still greater in 
proportion to the other expenditures of the Federal 
Government. 

It appears that the average annual expenditures of 
the Federal Government for the six years ending with 
1840, exclusive of payments on account of debt, were 
$26,474,892. Of this sum, the average appropriation 
each year for military and naval purposes amounted 
to $21,328,903, being eighty per cent, of the whole 
amount ! Yes ; of all the annual appropriations by 
the Federal Government, eighty cents in every dollar 
were applied in this irrational and unproductive man- 
ner. The remaining twenty cents sufficed to maintain 
the Government in all its branches. Executive, Legis- 
lative and Judicial, the administration of justice, our 
relations with foreign nations, the post office and all the 
light-houses which, in happy useful contrast with any 
forts, shed their cheerful signals over the rough waves 
beating upon our long and indented coast, from the Bay 
of Fundy to the mouth of the Mississippi. A table of 
the relative expenditures of nations, for military Prepa- 
rations in time of Peace, exclusive of payments on ac- 
count of the debts, presents results which will surprise 
the advocates of economy in our country. These are 
in proportion to the whole expenditure of Government : 

In Austria, as 33 per cent., 

\n France, as 38 per cent.. 

In Prussia, as 44 per cent., 



78 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

In Great Britain, as 74 per cent., 
In the United States as 80 per cent. ! * 
To this magnificent waste by the Federal Government, 
may be added the still larger and equally superfluous 
expenses of the Militia throughout the country, placed 
recently by a candid and able writer, at $50,000,000 a 
year ! t 

By a table I of the expenditures of the United States, 
exclusive of payments on accouat of the Public Debt, 
it appears, that, in the fifty -three years from the forma- 
tion of our present Government^ from 1789 down to 
1843, $246,620,055 have been expended for civil 
purposes, comprehending the executive, the legislative, 
the judiciary, the post office, light-houses, and inter- 
course with foreign governments. During this same 
period 8368,026,594 have been devoted to the mili- 
tary establishment, and $170,437,684 to the naval 
establishment; the two forming an aggregate of $538,- 
964,278. Deducting from this sum the appropriations 
during three years of war, and we shall find that more 
than four hundred millions were absorbed by vain 
Preparations in time of peace for War. Add to this 
amount a moderate sum for the expenses of the JMilitia 
during the same period, which, as we have already seen, 
have been placed recently at $50,000,000 a year ; for 
the past years we may take an average of $25,000,000 ; 
and we shall have the enormous sum of $1,335,000,000 

* I have verified these results by the expenditures of these differ- 
ent nations, but I do little more than follow Mr. Jay, who has illus- 
trated this important point with his accustomed accuracy. — Address, 
p. 30. 

+ Jay's Peace and War, p. 13, 

t American Almanac for 1845, p. 143. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 79 

to be added to the f 400,000,000 ; the whole amounting 
to seventeen hundred and thirty-jive millions of dollars, 
a Slim beyond the conception of human faculties, sunk 
under the sanction of the Government of the United 
States in mere peaceful Preparations for War ; more 
than seven times as much as was dedicated by the Gov- 
ernment, during the same period, to all other purposes 
whatsoever ! 

From this serried array of figures the mind instinct- 
ively retreats. If we examine them from a nearer 
point of view, and, selecting some particular part, com- 
pare it with the figures representing other interests in 
the community, they will present a front still more 
dread. Let us attempt the comparison. 

Within a short distance of this city stands an institu- 
tion of learning, which was one of the earliest cares of 
the early forefathers of the country, the conscientious 
Puritans. Favored child of an age of trial and struggle, 
carefully nursed through a period of hardship and anx- 
iety, endowed at that time by the oblations of men like 
Harvard, sustained from its first foundation by the pa- 
ternal arm of the Commonwealth, by a constant suc- 
cession of munificent bequests and by the praj^ers of 
all good men, the University at Cambridge now invites 
our homage as the most ancient, the most interesting, 
and the most important seat of learning in the land ; 
possessing the oldest and most valuable library, one of 
the largest museums of mineralogy and natural history, 
— a School of Law, which annually receives into its 
bosom more than one hundred and fifty sons from all 
parts of the Union, where they listen to instruction from 
professors whose names have become among the most 



80 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

valuable possessions of the land — a School of Divinity, 
the nurse of true learning and piety — one of the largest 
and naost flourishing Schools of Medicine in the coun- 
try — besides these, a general body of teachers, twenty- 
seven in number, many of whose names help to keep 
the name of the country respectable in every part of 
the globe, where science, learning and taste are cher- 
ished — the whole, presided over at this moment by a 
gentleman, early distinguished in public life by his un- 
conquerable energies and his masculine eloquence, at a 
later period, by the unsurpassed ability with which he 
administered the affairs of our city, and now in a green 
old age, full of years and honors, preparing to lay down 
his present high trust.* Such is Harvard University ; 
and as one of the humblest of her children, happy in the 
recollection of a youth nurtured in her classic retreats, 
I cannot allude to her without an expression of filial 
affection and respect. 

It appears from the last Report of the Treasurer, that 
the whole available property of the University, the 
various accumulations of more than two centuries of 
generosity, amounts to $703,175. 

Change the scene, and cast your eyes upon another 
object. There now swings idly at her moorings, in this 
harbor, a ship of the line, the Ohio, carrying ninety 
guns, finished as late as 1836 for $547,888 ; repaired 
only two years afterwards in 1838, for 8223,012 ; with 
an armament which has cost $53,945 ; making an 
amount of 8334,845,f as the actual cost at this moment 

* Hon. Josiah Quincy. 

+ Document No. 132, House of Representatives, 3d session, 27th 
Consress. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 81 

of that single ship; more than $100,000 beyond all 
the available accumulations of the richest and most 
ancient seat of learning in the land ! Choose ye, my 
fellow-citizens of a Christian state, between the two 
caskets — that wherein is the loveliness of knowledge 
and truth, or that which contains the carrion death. 

I refer thus particularly to the Ohio, because she 
happens to be in our waters. But in so doing I do not 
take the strongest case afforded by our Navy. Other 
ships have absorbed still larger sums. The expense of 
the Delaware in 1842, had been $1,051,000. 

Pursue the comparison still further. The expenditures 
of the University during the last year, for the general 
purposes of the College, the instruction of the Under- 
graduates, and for the Schools of Law and Divinity, 
amount to 840,949. The cost of the Ohio for one 
year in service, in salaries, wages and provisions, is 
8-220,000; being 8175,000 more than the annual ex- 
penditures of the University ; more than foin^ times as 
much. In other words, for the annual sum which is 
lavished on one ship of the line, fovr institutions, like 
Harvard University, might be sustained throughout the 
country ! 

Still further let us pursue the comparison. The pay 
of the Captain of a ship like the Ohio, is 84,500, when 
in service ; 83,500, when on leave of absence, or off 
duty. The salary of the President of the Harvard 
University is 82,205 ; without leave of absence, and 
never being off duty ! 

If the large endowments of Harvard University are 
dwarfed by a comparison with the expense of a single 
ship of the line, how much more must it be so with 

VOL. I. 6 



82 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

those of other institutions of learning and beneficence, 
less favored by the bounty of many generations. Tiie 
average cost of a sloop of war is $315,000; more, 
probably, than all the endowments of those twin stars 
of learning in the Western part of Massachusetts, the 
Colleges at Williamstown and Amherst, and of that 
single star in the East, the guide to many ingenuous 
youth, the Seminary at Andover. The yearly cost of 
a sloop of war in service is above $50,000 ; more than 
the annual expenditures of these three institutions com- 
bined. 

I might press the comparison with other institutions 
of Beneficence, whh the annual expenditures for the 
Blind — that noble and successful charity, which has 
shed true lustre upon our Commonwealth — amounting 
to $12,000 ; and the annual expenditures for the Insane 
of the Commonwealth, another charity dear to human- 
ity, amounting to 827,844. 

Take all the institutions of Learning and Beneficence, 
the precious jewels of the Commonwealth, the schools, 
colleges, hospitals and asylums, and the sums, by which 
they have been purchased and preserved, are trivial and 
beggarly, compared with the treasures squandered, 
within the borders of Massachusetts, in vain prepara- 
tions for War. There is the Navy Yard at Charlestown, 
with its stores on hand, all costing 84,741,000 ; the 
Fortifications in the harbors of Massachusetts, in which 
incalculable sums have been already sunk, and in which 
it is now proposed to sink 83,853,000 more ;* and 

* Document ; Report of Secretary of War ; No. 2. Senate, 27th 
Congress, 2d session ; where it is proposed to invest in a general 
system of land defences $51,677,929. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 83 

besides, the Arsenal at Springfield, containing in 1842, 
175,1 18 muskets, valued at 82,999,998,* and which is 
fed by an annual appropriation of about $200,000 ; 
but whose highest value will ever be, in the judgment 
of all lovers of truth, that it inspired a poem, which in 
its influence shall be mightier than a battle, and shall 
endure when arsenals and fortifications have crumbled 
to the earth. Some of the verses of this Psalm of 
Peace may happily relieve the detail of statistics, while 
they blend with my argument. 

Were half the power that fills the world with terror, 
Were half the wealth, bestowed on camp and courts, 

Given to redeem ihe human mind from error, 
There were no need of arsenals and forts. 

The warrior's name would he a name abhorred ! 

And every nation that should lift again 
Its hand against its brother, on its forehead 

Would wear for evermore the curse of Cain! 

Look now for one moment at a high and peculiar 
interest of the nation, the administration of justice. 
Perhaps no part of our system is regarded, by the en- 
lightened sense of the country, with more pride and 
confidence. To this, indeed, all the other concerns of 
Government, all its complications of machinery, are in 
a manner subordinate, since it is for the sake of justice 
that men come together in states and establish laws. 
What part of the Government can compare in impor- 
tance, with the Federal Judiciary, that great balance- 
wheel of the Constitution, controlling the relations of 
the States to each other, the legislation of Congress and 
of the States, besides private interests to an incalcula- 



* Exec. Documents of 1842-43, Vol. I, No. 3. 



84 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

ble amount ? Nor can the citizen, who discerns the True 
Glory of his country, fail to recognize in the judicial 
labors of Marshall, now departed, and in the immortal 
judgments of Story, who is still spared to us, — serus 
in cceIwu redeat — a higher claim to admiration and 
gratitude than can be found in any triumph of batde. 
The expenses of the administration of justice, through- 
out the United States, under the Federal Government, 
in 184'2, embracing the salaries of the judges, the cost 
of juries, court-houses and all officers thereof, in short 
all the outlay by which justice, according to the require- 
ments of Magna Charta, is carried to every man's door, 
amounted to 8560,990, a larger sum than is usually 
appropriated for this purpose, but how insignificant 
compared with the cormorant demands of the Army and 
Navy! 

Let me allude to one more curiosity of waste. It ap- 
pears, by a calculation founded on the expenses of the 
Navy, that the average cost of each gun, carried over 
the ocean, for one year, amounts to about fifteen thou- 
sand dollars ; a sum sufficient to sustain ten or even 
twenty professors of Colleges, and equal to the salaries 
of all the Judges of the Supreme Court of Massachu- 
setts and the Governor combined ! 

Such are a few brief illustrations of the tax which 
the nations, constituting the great Federation of civiliza- 
tion, and particularly our own country, impose on the 
people, in time of profound peace, for no permanent 
productive work, for no institution of learning, for no 
gentle charity, for no purpose of good. As w^e wearily 
climb, in this survey, from expenditure to expenditure, 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 85 

from waste to waste, we seem to pass beyond the region 
of ordinary calculation ; Alps on Alps arise, on whose 
crowning heights of everlasting ice, far above the habi- 
tations of man, where no green thing lives, where no 
creature draws its breath, we behold the cold, sharp, 
flashing glacier of War. 

In the contemplation of this spectacle the soul swells 
with alternate despair and hope; with despair, at the 
thought of such wealth, capable of rendering such ser- 
vice to Humanity, not merely wasted but given to 
perpetuate Hate ; with hope, as the blessed vision 
arises of the devotion of all these incalculable means 
to the purposes of Peace. The whole world labors at 
this moment with poverty and distress; and the painful 
question occurs to every observer, in Europe more than 
here at home — what shall become of the poor — 
the increasing Standing Army of the poor. Could the 
humble voice that now addresses you, penetrate those 
distant counsels, or counsels nearer home, it would say, 
disband your Standing Armies of soldiers, apply your 
Navies to purposes of peaceful and enriching com- 
merce, abandon your Fortifications and Arsenals, or 4 
dedicate them to works of Beneficence, as the statue ? 
of Jupiter Capitolinus was changed to the image of a 
Christian saint ; in fine, utterly forsake the present in- 
congruous system of armed Peace. 

That I may not seem to press to this conclusion with 
too much haste, at least as regards our own country, I 
shall consider briefly, as becomes the occasion, the 
asserted usefulness of the national armaments, which it 
is proposed to abandon, and shall next expose the out- 
rageous fallacy, at least in the present age, and among 



86 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the Christian Nations, of the maxim by which alone 
they are vindicated, that in time of Peace we must pre- 
pare for War. 

What is the use of the Standing Army of the United 
States ? It has been a principle of freedom, during 
many generations, to avoid a standing army ; and one 
of the complaints, in the Declaration of Independence, 
was that George III. had quartered large bodies of troops 
in the colonies. For the first years, after the adop- 
tion of the Federal Constitution, during our weakness, 
before our power was assured, before our name had 
become respected in the family of nations, under 
the administration of Washington, a small sum was 
deemed ample for the military establishment of the 
Unhed States. It was only when the country, at a later 
day, had been touched by martial insanity, that, in un- 
worthy imitation of monarchical states, it abandoned the 
true economy of a Republic, and lavished the means, 
which it begrudged to the purposes of Peace, in vain 
preparation for War. It may now be said of our army, 
as Dunning said of the influence of the crown, it has 
increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished. 
At this moment there are, in the country, more than 
fifty-five military posts. It would be difficult to assign a 
reasonable apology for any of these — unless, perhaps, 
on some distant Indian frontier. Of what use is the 
detachment of the second regiment of Artillery in the 
quiet town of New London in Connecticut ? Of what 
use is the detachment of the first regiment of Artillery 
in that pleasant resort of fashion, Newport ? By their 
exhilarating music and showy parade they may serve 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF Ts'ATIONS. fc/ 

to amuse an idle hour ; but it is doubtful if emotions 
of a different character will not be aroused in generous 
bosoms. Surely, he must have lost something of his 
sensibility to the true dignity of human nature, who, with- 
out regret and mortification, can observe the discipline, 
the drill, the unprofitable marching and counter-march- 
ing — the putting guns to the shoulder and then drop- 
ping them to the earth — which fill the lives of the poor 
soldiers, and prepare them to become the rude inani- 
mate parts of that machine^ to which an army has been 
likened by the great living master of the Art of War. 
And this sensibility must be more offended, by the spec- 
tacle of a chosen body of ingenuous youth, under the 
auspices of the Government, amidst the bewitching 
scenery of West Point, painfully trained to these same 
fantastic and humiliating exercises — at a cost to the 
country, since the establishment of this Academy, of 
upwards of four millions of dollars. 

In Europe Standing Armies are supposed to be needed 
to sustain the power of Governments ; but this excuse 
cannot prevail here. The monarchs of the Old World, 
like the chiefs of the ancient German tribes, are up- 
borne by the shields of the soldiery. Happily with us 
the Government springs from the hearts of the people, 
and needs no janizaries for its support. 

But I hear the voice of some defender of this abuse, 
some upholder of this " rotten borough " of our Consti- 
tution, crying, the Army is needed for the defence of 
the country ! As well might you say, that the shadow 
is needed for the defence of the body ; for what is the 
army of the United States but the feeble shadow of the 
power of the American people } In j^lacing the army 



88 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

on its -present fooling^ so small in numbers compared with 
the forces of the great European States^ our Government 
has tacitly admitted its superfluomness for defence. It 
only remains to declare distinctly, that the country will 
repose, in the consciousness of right, without the wanton 
excess of supporting soldiers, lazy consumers of the 
fruits of the earth, who might do the State good service 
in the various departments of useful industry. 

What is the use of the Navy of the United States 7 
The annual expense of our Navy, during recent years, 
has been upwards of six millions of dollars. For what 
purpose is this paid ? Not for the apprehension of 
pirates ; for frigates and ships of the line are of too 
great bulk to be of service for this purpose. Not for 
the suppression of the Slave Trade ; for under the stip- 
ulations with Great Britain, we employ only eighty 
guns in this holy alliance. Not to protect our coasts ; 
for all agree that our i'ew ships would form an unavail- 
ing defence against any serious attack. Not for these 
purposes, you will admit ; lut for the protection of our 
Navigation. This is not the occasion for minute calcu- 
lations. Suffice it to say, that an intelligent merchant, 
who has been extensively engaged in commerce for the 
last twenty years, and who speaks, therefore, with the 
authority of knowledge, has demonstrated in a tract of 
perfect clearness, that the annual profits of the whole 
mercantile marine of the country do not equal the 
annual expenditure of our Navy. Admitting the profit 
of a merchant ship to be four thousand dollars a year, 
which is a large allowance, it will take the earnings of 
one hundred ships to build and employ for one year a 
single sloop of War — one hundred and fifty ships to 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 89 

build and employ a frigate, and nearly three hundred 
ships to build and ennploy a ship of the line. Thus more 
than five hundred ships must do a profitable business, 
in order to earn a sufTicient sum to sustain this little 
fleet. Still further, taking a received estimate of the 
value of the mercantile marine of the United States at 
forty millions of dollars, we find that it is only a little 
more than six times the annual cost of the navy ; so 
that this interest is protected at a charge of more than 
fifteen per cent, of its whole value ! Protection at 
such price is more ruinous than one of Pyrrhus's 
victories ! 

But it is to the Navy, as an unnecessary arm of na- 
tional defence, and as part of the War establishment, 
that I confine my objection. So far as it may be re- 
quired for purposes of science and for the police of the 
seas — to scour them of pirates, and, above all, to defeat 
the hateful traffic in human flesh, — it is an expedient 
instrument of Government, and does not seem obnoxious 
as a portion of the machinery of War. But surely a 
navy, supported at immense cost in time of Peace, to 
protect our navigation against the piracies of civilized 
nations is absurdly superfluous. The free cities of 
Hamburgh and Bremen, survivors of the great Han- 
seatic League, with a commerce that whitens the 
most distant seas, are w'ithout a single ship of war. 
Let the United States be willing to follow their prudent 
example, and abandon an institution which has already 
become a vain and most expensive toy ! 

What is the use of the Fortifications of the United 
States ) We have already seen the enormous sums, 
which have been locked in the dead hands — in the 



90 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

odious mortmain — of their everlasting masonry. Like 
the pyramids, they seem by their mass and soUdity to 
defy time. Nor can I doubt, that hereafter, like these 
same monuments, they will be looked upon with won- 
der, as the types of an extinct superstition, not less de- 
grading than that of Ancient Egypt — I mean the 
superstition of War. It is in the hope of saving the 
country from the horrors of conquest and bloodshed that 
they are reared. But whence is the danger? On what 
side is it to come? Of what people is there any just 
cause of fear ? No Christian nation threatens our bor- 
ders with piracy or rapine. None will. Nor is it pos- 
sible to suppose any War with such a nation, in the 
existing state of civilization, and under the existing In- 
ternational Law, unless we voluntarily renounce the 
peaceful Tribunal of Arbitration, and consent to appeal 
to the Trial by Battle. The fortifications might be of 
service in waging this impious appeal. But let it also 
be borne in mind that they alone would invite the 
attack, which they might ba inadequate to defeat. It is 
a rule now recognized, even in the barbarous code of 
War, one branch of which has been illustrated with 
admirable ability in the diplomatic correspondence of 
Mr. Webster, that non-combatants on land shall not in 
any way be molested, and that the property of private 
persons on land shall in all cases be held sacred. So 
firmly did the Duke of Wellington act upon this rule, 
that, throughout the revengeful campaigns of Spain, 
and afterwards when he entered France, flushed with 
the victory of Waterloo, he directed his army to pay 
for all provisions, and even for the forage of their 
horses. War is carried on against public properly^ — 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 91 

against fortifications^ navy yards and arsenals. But if 
these do not exist, where is the aliment, where is the 
fuel for the flame? Paradoxical as it may seem, and 
disparaging to the whole trade of War, it may be pro- 
per to inquire, whether, according to the acknowledged 
Laws, which now govern this bloody Arbitrament, every 
new fortification and every additional gun in our har- 
bor is not less a safeguard than a source of danger to 
the city ? Better throw them in the sea, than madly 
allow them to draw the lightning of battle upon our 
homes, whhout, alas, any conductor to hurry its ter- 
rors' innocently beneath the concealing bosom of the 
earth ! 

What is the use of the Militia of the United States? <^ 
This immense system spreads, with innumerable suck- '■> 
ers, over the whole country, draining its best life-blood, ) 
the unbought energies of the youth. The same fantas- 
tic discipline, which we have observed in the soldier, 
absorbs their time, though, of course, to a less degree 
than in the regular army. Theirs also is the savage 
pomp of War. We read with astonishment of the 
painted flesh, and uncouth vestments of our progeni- 
tors, the ancient Britons. But the generation must soon 
come, that will regard, with equal wonder, the pictures 
of their ancestors of our day, closely dressed in padded 
and well-buttoned coats of blue, " besmeared with 
gold," surmounted by a huge mountain-cap of shaggy 
bear-skin, and with a barbarous device, typical of brute 
force, a tiger^ painted on oil-skin, tied with leather to 
their backs ! In the streets of Pisa, the galley-slaves 
are compelled to wear dresses stamped with the name 
of the crime for which they are suffering punishment : 



92 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

as theft, robbery, murder. It is not a little strange, 
that Christians, living in a land " where bells have 
tolled to church," should voluntarily adopt devices, 
which, if they have any meaning, recognize the exam- 
ple of beasts as worthy of imitation by man. 

The general considerations, which belong to the sub- 
ject of Preparations for War, will illustrate the inanity of 
the Militia for the ])uv])oses o^ national defence. I do 
not know, indeed, that it is now strongly advocated on 
this ground. It is oftener spoken of as an important 
part of the police of the country. I would not un- 
dervalue the blessings derived from an active, effi- 
cient, cvcr-wakeful police ; and I believe that such a 
police has been long required in our country. But the 
Militia, composed of youth of undoubted character, 
though of untried courage and little experience, is 
clearly inadequate for this purpose. No person, who 
has seen this arm of the police in an actual riot, can 
hesitate in this judgment. A very small portion of the 
means, which are absorbed by the Militia, would provide 
a substantial police, competent to all the emergencies 
of domestic disorder and violence. The City of Bos- 
ton has long been convinced of the inexpediency of a 
Fire Department composed of mere volunteers. A simi- 
lar conviction with regard to the police, it is hoped, may 
soon pervade the country. 

I am well aware, however, that efforts to abolish the 
Militia will be encountered by some of the dearest pre- 
judices of the common mind ; not only by the War 
Spirit ; but by that other spirit, which first animates 
childhood, and at a later day, " children of a larger 
growth," inviting to finery of dress and parade, — the 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 93 

same spirit which fantastially bedecks the dusky feather- 
cinctured chiefs of the soft regions warmed by the 
tropical sun ; which inserts rings in the noses of the 
North American Indians ; which slits the ears of the 
Australian savages ; and tattoos the New Zealand can- 
nibals. 

Such is a review of the true character and value of 
the national armaments of the United States ! It will 
be observed that I have thus far regarded them in the 
plainest light of ordinary worldly economy, without 
reference to those higher considerations, founded on the 
nature and history of man, and the truths of Christian- 
ity, which pronounce them to be vain. It is grateful 
to know, that, though they may yet have the support of 
what Jeremy Taylor calls the " popular noises," still 
the more economical, more humane, more wise, more 
Christian system is daily commending itself to wide 
.circles of the good people of the land. On its side are 
all the virtues that truly elevate a state. Economy, 
sick of the pigmy efforts to staunch the smallest foun- 
tains and rills of exuberant expendhure, pleads that 
here is an endless, boundless, fathomless river, an 
Amazon of waste, rolling its prodigal waters turbidly, 
hatefully, ruinously to the sea. It chides us with an un- 
natural inconsistency when we strain at a little twine 
and red tape, and swallow the monstrous cables and 
armaments of War. Humanity pleads for the great 
interests of Knowledge and Benevolence, from which 
such mighty means are withdrawn. Wisdom frowns 
on these Preparations as calculated to nurse sentiments 
inconsistent with Peace. Christianity calmly rebukes 



94 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the spirit in which they have their origin, as being of 
little faith, and treacherous to her high behests ; while 
History, exhibiting the sure, though gradual, Progress of 
Man, points with unerring finger to that destiny of True 
Grandeur, when Nations, like individuals — disowning 
War as a proper Arbiter of Justice — shall abandon 
the oppressive apparatus of Armies, Navies and Fortifi- 
cations by which it is impiously waged. 

And now, before considering the sentiment that in 
ti?ne of Peace we must prepare for War, I hope I shall 
not seem to descend from the proper sphere of this 
discussion, if I refer to the parade of barbarous mottoes, 
and of emblems of brute force, as furnishing another 
impediment to the proper appreciation of these Prepara- 
tions. These mottoes and emblems, prompting to War, 
are obtruded on the very ensigns of power and honor ; 
and men, careless of their discreditable import, learn to 
regard them with patriotic pride. Beasts and birds of 
prey, in the armorial bearings of nations and individuals, 
are selected as the exemplars of True Grandeur. The 
lion is rampant on the flag of England — the leopard 
on the flag of Scotland — a double-headed eagle spreads 
its wings on the imperial standard of Austria. After 
exhausting the known kingdom of nature, the pennons 
of knights, like the knapsacks of our Militia, were dis- 
figured by imaginary and impossible monsters, griffins, 
hippogriffs, unicorns, all intended to represent the 
excess of brute force. The people of Massachusetts 
have unconsciously adopted this degrading standard. 
In the escutcheon which is used as the seal of the state, 
there is an unfortunate combination of disagreeable and 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 95 

unworthy suggestions, to which I shall refer briefly by 
way of example. On that part which, in the language 
of heraldry, is termed the shield^ is an Indian, with 
a bow in his hand — certainly, no agreeable memento, 
except to those who find honor in the disgraceful 
wars in which our fathers robbed and murdered King 
Philip, of Pokanoket, and his tribe, the rightful posses- 
sors of the soil. The crest is a raised arm, holdings in 
a threatening attitude^ a draivn sabre — being precisely 
the emblem once borne on the flag of Algiers. The 
scroll, or legend, consists of the last of those two 
lines, in bad Latin, from an unknown source, which we 
first encounter, as they were inscribed by Algernon 
Sydney, in the Album at the University of Copenhagen, 
in Denmark ; 

Manus hcec, inimica tyrannis, 

Ease petit placidam sub libertate quictem. 

The Legislature of Massachusetts, with singular una- 
nimity, has adopted resolutions expressing an earnest 
desire for the establishment of a High Court of Nations 
to adjudge international controversies, and thus super- 
sede the Arbitrament of War. It would be an act of 
moral dignity, consistent with these professions of Peace, 
and becoming the character which it vaunts before the 
world, to abandon its bellicose escutcheon — at least, 
to erase that Algerine emblem, fit only for Corsairs, 
and those words of barbarous Latin, which can awaken 
only the idea of ignorance and brute force. If a Latin 
motto be needed, it might be those words of Virgil, 
''^ Pacisque imponere morem;" or that sentence of 
noble truth from Cicero, " Sine summa justitia rempub- 
licam geri nullo modo posse." Where the spirit of 



96 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

these words prevailed, there would be little occasion to 
consider the question of Preparations for War. 

The sentiment, that i?i time of peace we must pre- 
pare for War, has been transmitted from distant ages 
when brute force prevailed. It is the terrible inheri- 
tance, damnosa licBrtditas, which painfully reminds 
the people of our day of their relations with the Past. 
It belongs to the rejected dogmas of barbarism. It is 
the companion of those harsh rales of tyranny, by 
which the happiness of the many has been offered up 
to the propensities of the few. It is the child of suspi- 
cion and the forerunner of violence. Having in its 
favor the almost uninterrupted usage of the world, it 
possesses a hold on popular opinion, which is not easily 
unloosed. And yet the conscientious soul cannot fail, 
on careful observation, to detect its mischievous fallacy 
— at least among Christian states in the present age — 
a fallacy the most costly the world has witnessed, 
which dooms nations to annual tributes, in comparison 
with which all that have been extorted by conquests are 
as the widow's mite by the side of Pharisaical contri- 
butions. So true is what Rousseau said, and Guizot 
has since repeated, " that a bad principle is far worse 
than a bad fact ; " for the operations of the one are 
finite, while those of the other are infinite. 

I speak of this principle with earnestness : for I be- 
lieve it to be erroneous and false, founded in ignorance 
and barbarism, unworthy of an age of light, and dis- 
graceful to Christians. I have called it a principle ; 
but it is a mere prejudice — sustained by vulgar exam- 
ple only, and not by lofty truth — in obeying which we 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 97 

imitate the early mariners, who steered from headland 
to headland and hugged the shore, unwilling to venture 
upon the broad ocean, where their guide was the lumi- 
naries of Heaven. 

Dismissing, from our minds, the actual usage of nations, 
on the one side, and the considerations of economy, on 
the other, let us regard these Preparations for War, in 
the unclouded light of reason, in a just appreciation of 
the nature of man, and in the injunctions of the highest 
truth, and we cannot hesitate to brand them as perni- 
cious. Tliey are pernicious on two grounds ; and 
whoso would vindicate them must satisfactorily answer 
these objections ; jirst^ because they inflame the people, 
who make them, exciting them to deeds of violence, 
otherwise alien to their minds ; and secondly^ because, 
having their origin in the low motive of distrust and 
hate, they inevitably, by a sure law of the human mind, 
excite a corresponding feeling in other nations. Thus 
they are, in fact, not the preservers of Peace^ but the 
provokers of War. 

In illustration of the first of these objections, it will 
occur to every inquirer, that the possession of power is 
always in itself dangerous, that it tempts the purest and 
highest natures to self-indulgence, that it can rarely be 
enjoyed without abuse ; nor is the power to employ 
force in War, an exception to this law. History teaches 
that the nations, possessing the greatest armaments, have 
always been the most belligerent ; while the feebler 
powers have enjoyed, for a longer period, the blessings 
of Peace. The din of War resounds throughout more 
than seven hundred years of Roman history, with only 
two short lulls of repose ; while smaller states, less 

VOL. 1. 7 



98 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

potent in arms, and without the excitement to quarrels 
on this account, have enjoyed long eras of Peace. It 
is not in the history of nations only, that we find proofs 
of this law. Like every moral principle, it applies 
equally to individuals. The experience of private life, 
in all ages, confirms it. The wearing of arms has 
always been a provocative to combat. It has excited 
the spirit and furnished the implements of strife. Re- 
verting to the progress of society in modern Europe, 
we find that the odious system of private quarrels, of 
hostile meetings even in the street, continued so long 
as men persevered in the habit of wearing arms. Innu- 
merable families were thinned by death received in 
these hasty and unpremeditated encounters ; and the 
lives of scholars and poets were often exposed to their 
rude chances. Marlowe, " with all his rare learning 
and wit," perished ignominiously under the weapon of 
an unknown adversary ; and Savage, whose genius and 
misfortune inspired the friendship and the eulogies of 
Johnson, was tried for murder committed in a sudden 
broil. " The expert swordsman," says Mr. Jay,* " the 
practised marksman, is ever more ready to engage in 
personal combats, than the man who is unaccustomed 
lo the use of deadly weapons. In those portions of our 
country where it is supposed essential to personal safety 
to go armed with pistols and bowie knives, mortal aff'rays 
are so frequent as to excite but little attention, and to 
secure, with rare exceptions, impunity to the murderer ; 
whereas, .at the North and East, where we are unpro- 
vided with such facilities for taking life, comparatively 

* Address before the American Peace Society, pp. 23, 24. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 99 

few murders of the kind are perpetrated. We might, 
indeed, safely submit the decision of the principle wo 
are discussing to the calculations of pecuniary interest. 
Let two men, equal in age and health, apply for an 
insurance on their lives ; one known to be ever armed 
to defend his honor and his life against every assailant; 
and the other a meek, unresisting Quaker ; can we 
doubt for a moment which of these men would be 
deemed by the Insurance Company most likely to reach 
a good old age ? " 

The second objection is founded on that law of the 
human mind, in obedience to which the sentiment 
of distrust or hate, — of which these Preparations are 
the representatives, — must excite a corresponding senti- 
ment in others. This law is a part of the unalterable 
nature of man, recognized in early ages, though unhap- 
pily too rarely made the guide to peaceful intercourse 
among nations. It is an expansion of the old Horatian 
adage, Si vis me Jlere, dohndum est primum ipsi tihi ; 
if you wish me to weep, you must yourself first weep. 
'Nobody can question its force or its applicability ; nor 
is it too much to say, that it distinctly declares, that 
Military Preparations by one nation, in time of pro- 
fessed Peace, must naturally prompt similar Prepara- 
tions by other nations, and quicken everywhere, within 
the circle of their influence, the Spirit of War. So are 
we all knit together, that the feelings in our own bosoms 
awaken corresponding feelings in the bosoms of others; 
as harp answers to harp in its softest vibrations ; as deep 
responds to deep in the might of its passions. What 
within us is good invites the good in our brother ; gen- 
erosity begets generosity ; love wins love ; Peace secures 



100 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

Peace ; while all within us that is bad challenges the 
bad in our brother ; distrust engenders distrust ; hate 
provokes hate ; War arouses War. 

Life is full of illustrations of this beautiful law. Even 
the miserable maniac, in whose mind the common rules 
of conduct are overthrown, confesses its overruling 
power ; and the vacant stare of madness may be illu- 
mined by a word of love. The wild beasts confess it ; 
and what is the story of Orpheus, whose music drew, in 
listening rapture, the lions and panthers of the forest, 
but an expression of its prevailing influence ? It speaks 
also in the examples of literature. And here, at the 
risk of protracting this discussion, I am tempted to 
glance at some of these instructive instances — hoping, 
however, not to seem to attach undue meaning to 
them, and especially disclaiming any conclusions from 
them beyond the simple law which they illustrate. 

Looking back to the early dawn of the world, one of 
the most touching scenes which we behold, illumined 
by that Auroral light, is the peaceful visit of the aged 
Priam to the tent of Achilles to entreat the body of his 
son. The fierce combat has ended in the death of 
Hector, whose unhonored corse the bloody Greek has 
already trailed behind his chariot The venerable 
father, after twelve days of grief, is moved to efforts to 
regain the remains of the Hector he had so dearly loved. 
He leaves his lofty cedarn chamber, and whh a single 
aged attendant, unarmed, repairs to the Grecian camp, 
by the side of the distant sounding sea. Entering 
alone, he finds Achilles within his tent, in the company 
of two of his chiefs. Grasping his knees, ho kisses 
those terrible homicidal hands, which had taken tlie life 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 101 

of his son. The heart of the inflexible, the angry, the 
inflanned Achilles, touched by the sight which he 
beholds, responds to the feelings of Priam. He takes 
the suppliant by the hand, seats him by his side, con- 
soles his grief, refreshes his weary body, and concedes 
to the prayers of a weak, unarmed old man, what 
all Troy in arms could not win. In this scene, which 
fills a large part of a book of the Iliad, the poet, with 
unconscious power, has presented a picture of the om- 
nipotence of that law of our nature, making all mankind 
of kin, in obedience to which no word of kindness, no 
act of confidence, falls idly to the earth. 

Among the legendary passages of Roman history, 
perhaps none makes a deeper impression, than that 
scene, after the Roman youth had been consumed at 
Allia, and the invading Gauls under Brennus had en- 
tered the city, where we behold the venerable Senators 
of the Republic, too old to flee, and careless of surviving 
the Roman name, seated each on his curule chair, in a 
temple, unarmed, looking, as Livy says, more august 
than mortal, and with the majesty of the gods. The 
Gauls gaze on them, as upon sacred images, and the 
hand of slaughter, which had raged through the streets 
of Rome, is stayed by the sight of an assembly of un- 
armed men. At length a Gaul approaches, and with 
his hands gently strokes the silver beard of a Senator, 
who, indignant at the license, smites the barbarian with 
his ivory staff*; which was the signal for general ven- 
geance. Think you, that a band of savages could have 
slain these Senators, if the appeal to Force had not first 
been made by one of their own number ? This story, 
though recounted by Livy, and also by Plutarch, is 



102 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

properly repudiated by Niebuhr as a legend ; but it is 
none the less interesting, as showing the law by which 
hostile feelings are necessarily aroused or subdued. 
The heart of man confesses that the Roman Senator 
provoked death for himself and his associates. 

Other instances present themselves. An admired 
picture by Virgil, in his melodious epic, represents a 
person, venerable for piety and deserts, assuaging by 
words alone a furious populace, which had just broken 
into sedition and outrage. Guizot, in his History of 
French Civilization,* has preserved a similar instructive 
example of the effect produced by an unarmed man, 
in an illiterate epoch, who, employing the word in- 
stead of the sword^ subdued an angry multitude. And 
surely no reader of that noble historical romance, the 
Promessi Sposi, can forget that finest scene, where Fra 
Christofero, in an age of violence, after slaying a com- 
rade in a broil, in unarmed penitence seeks the presence 
of the family and retainers of his victim, and, by his 
dignified gentleness, awakens the admiration of those 
already mad with the desire of vengeance. Another 
example, made familiar by recent translations of 
Frithinfs Saga, the Swedish epic, is more emphatic. 
The scene is a battle. Frithiof is in deadly combat 
with Atle, when the falchion of the latter breaks. 
Throwing away his own weapon, he says ; 
Swordless Jbeman^s life 



Ne^er dyed this gallant blade. 

The two champions now close in mutual clutch ; they 
hug like bears, says the Poet : 

* Tom. II. p. 36. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 103 

'Tis o'er: for Frilhiof's matchless strength 

Has felled his ponderous size ; 
And 'neath that knee, at giant length, 

Supine the Viking lies. 
" But fails my sword, thou Berserk swart ! " 

The voice rang far and wide, 
" Its point should pierce thy inmost heart, 

Its hilt should drink the tide." 
" Be free to lift the weaponed hand," 

Undaunted Atle spoke, 
•' Hence, fearless, quest thy distant brand ! 

Thus I abide the stroke." 

Frithiof regains his sword, intent to close the dread 
debate, while his adversary awaits the stroke ; but his 
heart responds to the generous courage of his foe ; he 
cannot injure one who has shown such confidence in 
him ; — 

This quelled his ire, this checked his arm, 
Outstretched the hand of peace. 

I cannot leave these illustrations, without alluding par- 
ticularly to the history of the treatment of the insane, 
which teaches, by conclusive example, how strong in 
nature must be the principle, that leads us to respond 
to the conduct and feelings of others. When Pinel 
first proposed to remove the heavy chains from the 
raving maniacs of the hospitals of Paris, he was re- 
garded as one who saw visions, or dreamed dreams. 
At last his wishes were gratified. The change in the 
conduct of his patients was immediate ; the wrinkled 
front of evil passions was smoothed into the serene 
countenance of Peace. The old treatment by Force 
is now universally abandoned ; the law of Love has 
taken its place ; and all these unfortunates mingle 
together, un vexed by those restraints, which implied 
suspicion, and, therefore, aroused opposition. The 



104 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

warring propensities, which, while the hospitals for the 
insane were controlled by Force, filled them with con- 
fusion and strife, are a dark but feeble type of the 
present relations of nations, on whose hands are the 
heavy chains of Military Preparations, assimilating the 
world to one Great Mad-house ; while the peace and 
good-will, which now abound in these retreats, are the 
happy emblems of what awaits mankind when they 
shall recognize the supremacy of the higher sentiments 
of our nature ; of gentleness, of confidence, of love ; 

making their future might 

Magnetic o'er the fixed untrembling heart. 

I might also dwell on the recent experience, so full 
of delightful wisdom, in the treatment of the distant, 
degraded convicts of New South Wales, showing how 
confidence and kindness, on the part of their overseers, 
awaken a corresponding sentiment even in these out- 
casts, from whose souls virtue, at first view, seems to 
be wholly blotted out. 

Thus from all quarters, from the far-off Past, from 
the far-away Pacific, from the verse of the poet, from 
the legend of history, from the cell of the mad-house, 
from the assembly of transported criminals, from the 
experience of daily life, from the universal heart of 
man, ascends the spontaneous tribute to that law, ac- 
cording to which we respond to the feelings by which 
we are addressed, whether of love or hate, of confidence 
or distrust. 

It may be urged that these instances are exceptions 
to the general laws by which mankind are governed. 
It is not so. They are the unanswerable evidence of 
the real nature of man. They reveal the divinity of 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 105 

Humanity, out of which all goodness, all happiness, all 
True Greatness can alone proceed. They disclose sus- 
ceptibilities which are general, which are confined to 
no particular race of men, to no period of time, to 
no narrow circle of knowledge and refinement — but 
which are present wherever two or more human beings 
come together, and which are strong in proportion to 
their virtue and intelligence. It is, then, on the im- 
pregnable ground of the nature of man, that I place the 
fallacy of that prejudice, in obedience to which, now, 
in an age of civilization, among Christian nations, in 
time of peace we prepare for War. 

But this prejudice is not only founded on a miscon- 
ception of the nature of man ; it is abhorrent to Chris- 
tianity, which teaches that Love is more puissant than 
Force. To the reflecting mind the Omnipotence of 
God himself is less discernible in the earthquake and 
the storm, than in the gentle but quickening rays of the 
sun, and the sweet descending dews. And he is a 
careless observer, who doos not recognize the supe- 
riority of gentleness, and kindness, as a mode of exer- 
cising influence, or securing rights among men. As 
the winds of violence beat about them, they hug those 
mantles, which are gladly thrown to the earth under 
the warmth of a kindly sun. Thus far, nations have 
drawn their weapons from the earthly armories of 
Force, unmindful of those others of celestial temper 
from the house of Love. 

But Christianity not only teaches the superiority of 
Love over Force ; it positively enjoins the practice of 
the former, as a constant primal duty. It says, " Love 
your neighbors ; " but it does not say, " In time of 
Peace rear the massive fortification, build the man-of- 



106 THE TKUE GKANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

war, enlist armies, train the militia, and accumulate 
military stores to overawe your neighbors." It directs 
that we should do unto others as we would have them 
do unto us — a golden rule for the conduct of nations, 
as well as individuals ; but how inconsistent with that dis- 
trust of others, in wrongful obedience to which nations, in 
time of Peace, seem to sleep like soldiers on their arms ! 
But this is not all. Its precepts inculcate patience, suffer- 
ing, forgiveness of evil, even the duty of benefiting a de- 
stroyer, " as the sandal wood, in the instant of its over- 
throw, sheds perfume on the axe which fells it." And 
can a people, in whom this faith is more than an idle 
word, consent to the diversion of such inestimable sums 
from Good Works and all the purposes of Christianity, 
in order to pamper the Spirit of War ? 

The injunction, " Love one another," is as applicable 
to nations as to individuals. It is one of the great 
laws of Heaven. And Nations, like individuals, may 
well measure their nearness to God and to his Glory 
by the degree to which they regulate their conduct by 
this duty. 

In response to these successive views, founded on 
considerations of economy, of the true nature of man, 
and of Christianity, I hear the skeptical note of some 
defender of the transmitted order of things, some one 
who wishes " to fight for peace," saying, these views 
are beautiful but visionary ; they are in advance of the 
age ; the world is not yet prepared for their reception. 
To such persons I would say ; nothing can be beautiful 
that is not true ; but these views are true, and the time 
is now come for their reception. Now is the day and 
now is the hour, Every effort to impede their progress 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 



107 



arrests the advancing hand on the great dial-plate of 
human happiness. 

The name of Washington is invoked as an authority 
for a prejudice which Economy, Wisdom, Humanity and 
Christianity all declare to be false. Mighty and reve- 
rend as is his name, more mighty and more reverend is 
truth. The words of counsel which he gave were in 
accordance with the Spirit of his age, — an age which 
was not shocked by the slave-trade. But his lofty soul, 
which loved virtue, and inculcated Justice and Benevo- 
lence, frowns upon the efforts of those who would use 
his authority as an incentive to War. God forbid that 
his sacred character should be profanely stretched, like 
the skin of John Ziska, on a militia drum to arouse the 
martial ardor of the American people ! 

Let the practice of Washington, during the eight 
years of his administration, compared with that of the 
eight years last past, explain his real opinions. His 
condemnation of the present wasteful system speaks to 
us from the following table : 



Years. 



1789-91 
1792 
1793 
1794 
1795 
1796 

Total during eight years 
of Washington, . . 

1835 
1836 
1S37 
1838 
1839 
1840 
1842 
1843 

Total during eight years. 



Military Establishment. 


Naval Establishment. 


$ 835,000 


$ 570 


1,223,594 


53! 


1,237,620 




2,733,540 


61,409 


2.573,059 


410,562 


1,474,661 


274,784 


$10,078,092 


S487,373 


9,420,313 


3,864,939 


18,466,110 


5,800,763 


19,417,274 


6,352,060 


19.936,412 


5,175,771 


14,263,981 


6,225,003 


11,621,433 


6,124,445 


13,903,893 


6,246,503 


8,243,913 


7,963,673 


$114,283,244 


$49,053,473 



lOS THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS 

Tiius it appears, that the expenditures for the arma- 
ments of the country, under the sanction of Washing- 
ton, amounted to about eleven million dollars, while 
those during a recent similar period of eight years, 
stretch to upwards of one hundred and sixty-four mil- 
lion dollars — an increase o^ ffteen hundred per cent. ! 
To him who quotes the precept of Washington I com- 
mend the example. He must be strongly possessed 
by the military mania who is not ready to confess, that, 
in this age, when the whole world is at peace, and 
when our national power is assured, there is less need 
of these Preparations than in an age, convulsed with 
War, when our national power was little respected. 
The only semblance of an argument in their favor is 
founded in the increased wealth of the country ; but the 
capacity to endure taxation is no criterion of its justice, 
or even its expediency. 

The fallacy, that whatever is, is right, is also invoked 
as an apology. Our barbarous practice is exalted 
above all those principles by which these Prepara- 
tions are condemned^. We are made to count princi- 
ples as nothing, because they have not yet been recog- 
nized by nations. But they have been practically 
applied to the relations of individuals, of towns, of 
counties. All these have disarmed. It remains only 
that they should be extended to the grander sphere of 
nations. Be it our duty to proclaim the principles, 
whatever may be the practice ! Through us let Truth 
speak. The bigots of the past, and all, who are sel- 
fishly concerned in the existing system, may close their 
minds and hearts to her message. Thus it has been in 
all ages. Nay more ; there is often an irritation ex- 
cited by her presence ; and men, who are kind and 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 109 

charitable, forget their kindness and lose their charity 
towards the unaccustomed stranger. Harshness, neg- 
lect, intolerance, ensue. It was this spirit which award- 
ed a dungeon to Galileo, when he declared that the 
earth moved round the sun — which neglected the 
great discovery by Harvey of the circulation of the 
blood — which bitterly opposed the divine philanthropy 
of Clarkson, when first denouncing the wickedness of 
the slave-trade. But Truth, rejected and dishonored in 
our day, shall become the household companion of ihe 
next generation. 

Auspicious omens from the past and the present, 
cheer us for the future. The terrible wars of the 
French Revolution were the violent rending of the body, 
which preceded the exorcism of the fiend. Since the 
morning stars first sang together, the world has not 
witnessed a peace so harmonious and enduring as that 
which now blesses the Christian nations. Great ques- 
tions between them, fraught with strife, and in another 
age, sure heralds of War, are now determined by Me- 
diation or Arbitration, Great political movements, 
which, only a few short years ago, must have led to 
forcible rebellion, are now conducted by peaceful dis- 
cussion. Literature, the press, and various societies, 
all join in the holy work of inculcating good-will to 
man. The Spirit of Humanity now pervades the best 
writings, whether the elevated philosophical inquiries 
of the Vestiges of Creation, the ingenious but melan- 
choly moralizings of the Stoi-y of a Feather, or the 
overflowing raillery of Pwwc/i. Nor can the breathing 
thought and burning word of poet or orator have a 
higher inspiration. Genius is never so Promethean as 



110 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

when it bears the heavenly fire of love to the hearths of 
men. 

In the last age Dr. Johnson uttered the detestable 
sentiment that he liked " a good Hater." The man of 
this age must say that he likes " a good Lover." Thus 
reversing the objects of regard, he follows a higher 
wisdom and a purer religion than the renowned moral- 
ist knew. He recognizes that peculiar Christian sen- 
timent, the Brotherhood of Mankind, destined soon to 
become the decisive touchstone of all human institu- 
tions. He confesses the power of Love, destined to en- 
ter, more and more, into all the concerns of life. And 
as Love is more Heavenly than Hate, so must its influ- 
ence redound more to the True Glory of man, and to 
his acceptance with God. A Christian poet — whose 
few verses bear him with unflagging wing on his im- 
mortal flight — has joined this sentiment with Prayer. 
Thus he speaks in words of uncommon pathos and 

power : 

He prayeth well who loveth well 
All things bolh great and small. 

He prayeth best who loveth best 
Both man and bird and beast, 
For the dear God, who loveth us, 
He made and loveth all. 

Surely the ancient Law of Hate is yielding to the 
Law of Love. It is seen in the manifold labors of phi- 
lanthropy and in the voyages of charity. It is seen in 
the institutions for the insane, for the blind, for the deaf 
and dumb, for the poor, for the outcast — in the gen- 
erous efforts to relieve those who are in prison — in the 
public schools, opening the gates of knowledge to all 
the children of the land. It is seen in the diffusive 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. Ill 

amenities of social life, and in the increasing fellowship 
of nations. It is seen in the rising opposition to slavery 
and to War. 

There are yet other special auguries of this great 
change, auspicating, in the natural Progress of Man, the 
abandonment of all international Preparations for War. 
To these I allude briefly, but with a deep conviction 
of their significance. 

Look at the Past ; and observe the change in dress. 
Down to a period quite recent, the sword was the indis- 
pensable companion of the gentleman, wherever he 
appeared, whether in the street or in society; but he 
would be thought a madman, or a bully, who should 
wear it now. At an earlier period the armor of com- 
plete steel was the habiliment of the knight. From the 
picturesque sketch by Sir Walter Scott, in the Lay of 
the Last Minstrel, we may learn the barbarous con- 
straint of this costume. 

Ten of them were sheathed in steel, 
With helted sword, and spur on heel ; 
They quilted not the harness bright, 
Neither by day, nor yet by night ; 

They lay down to rest. 

With corset laced, 
Pillowed on buckler cold and hard ; 

They carved at the meal 

With gloves of steel, 
And they drunk the red wine through the helmet barred. 

But this is all changed now. 

Observe also the change in architecture and in 
domestic life. The places once chosen for castles, 
or houses, were in savage, inaccessible retreats, where 
the massive structure was reared, destined to repel 
attacks, and to enclose its inhabitants. Even mo- 



112 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

nasteries and churches were fortified, and girdled by 
towers, ramparts and ditches, while a child was often 
stationed as a watchman, to observe what passed 
at a distance, and announce the approach of an ene- 
my. The homes of peaceful chizens in towns were 
castellated, often without so much as an aperture 
for light near the ground, but with loop-holes through 
which the shafts of the cross-bow might be aimed. 
From a letter of Margaret Paston, in the time of 
Henry VII. of England, I draw a curious and authentic 
illustration of the armed life of that period.* Address- 
ing in dutiful phrase her " right worshipful husband," 
she asks him to procure for her " some cross-bows and 
wyndnacs [grappling irons] to bind them with, and 
quarrels," [arrows with a square head] — also " two or 
three short pole-axes to keep within doors ; " and she 
tells her absent lord of the Preparations made appa- 
rently by a neighbor — " great ordnance within the 
house " — " bars to bar the door crosswise, and wickets 
in every quarter of the house to shoot out at, both with 
bows and hand-guns." Savages could hardly live in 
greater distrust of each other. Let now the poet of 
chivalry describe another scene : 

Ten squires, ten yeomen, mail-clad men, 
Wailed ihe beck of the warders ten ; 
Tiiirty steeds, both fleet and wight, 
Stood saddled in stable day and night, 
Barbed with frontlet of steel I trow, 
And with Jedwood axe at saddle bow ; 
A hundred more fed free in stall : 
Such was the custom at Branksome Hall. 

This also is all changed now. 

* Paston Letters, CXIII. (LXXVII,) vol. 3, p. 31. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 113 

But the principles, which have caused this change, are 
not only active still, but increasing in activity. They 
cannot be restrained to individuals. Nations also must 
soon confess them, and, like individuals, abandoning mar- 
tial habiliments and fortifications, enter upon a peaceful 
unarmed life. With shame let it be said, that they con- 
tinue to live in the very relations of distrust towards 
their neighbors, which shocks us in the knights of 
Branksome Hall, and in the house of Margaret Paston. 
They seem to pillow themselves on " buckler cold and 
hard ; " and their highest anxiety and largest expendi- 
ture are for the accumulation of new munitions of War. 
The barbarism which individuals have renounced, na- 
tions continue to cherish. So doing, they take counsel of 
the wild boar in the fable, who whetted his tusks on a tree 
of the forest, when no enemy was near, saying that in 
time of Peace he must prepare for War. But has not 
the time now come, when man, whom God created in 
his own image, and to whom He gave the Heaven- 
directed countenance, shall cease to look down to the 
beasts for examples of conduct ? Nay ; let me not 
dishonor the beasts by the comparison. Man alone of 
the animal creation preys upon his own species. The 
kingly lion turns from his brother lion — the ferocious 
tiger will not raven upon his kindred tiger — the wild 
boar of the forest does not glut his sharpened tusks 
upon a kindred boar ! 

Sed jam serpenlum major concordia ; parcit 
Cognatis maculis similis fera, Quando leoni 
Fortior eripuil vitamleo? quo nemore unquam 
Exspiravit aper majoris deiitibus apri ? 
Indica ligris agit rabida cum tigride Pacem 
Perpeiuam.* 

* Juvenal, Sal. XV. 159. 
VOL. I. 8 



114 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

To an early monarch of France, homage has already 
been offered for his efforts in the cause of Peace, par- 
ticularly in abolishing the Trial by Battle. To another 
monarch of France, in our own day, a descendant of St. 
Louis, worthy of the illustrious lineage, Louis Philippe, 
belongs the honest fame of first, from the throne, pub- 
lishing the truth, that Peace w^as endangered by Prepar- 
ations for War. "The sentiment, or rather the princi- 
ple," he says, in reply to an address from the London 
Peace Convention in 1843, " that in peace you must 
prepare for war, is one of difficulty and danger ; for 
while we keep armies on land to preserve peace^ they 
are^ at the same time^ incentives arid instruments of 
War. He rejoiced in all efforts to preserve peace, for 
that was what all need. He thought the time was 
coming when we shall get rid entirely of War in all 
civilized countries." This time has been hailed by a 
generous voice from the army itself, by a Marshal of 
France, — Bugeaud, the Governor of Algiers, — who 
gave, as a toast at a public dinner in Paris, the following 
words of salutation to a new and approaching era of 
happiness : " To the pacific union of the great human 
family, by the association of individuals, nations, and 
races! To the annihilation of War! To the trans- 
formation of destructive armies into corps of industrious 
laborers, who will consecrate their lives to the cultiva- 
tion and embellishment of the world ! " Be it our duty 
to speed this consummation ! And may other soldiers 
emulate the pacific aspirations of this veteran chief, 
until the trade of War has ceased from the earth ! 

To William Penn belongs the distinction, destined to 
brighten as men advance in virtue, of first in human 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 115 

history establishing the Laio of Love^ as a rule of con- 
duct, in the intercourse of nations. While recognizing 
the duty " to support power in reverence with the peo- 
ple, and to secure the people from abuse of power," * 
as a great end of government, he declined the super- 
fluous protection of arms against Foreign Force, and 
" aimed to reduce the savage nations, by just and gentle 
manners, to the love of civil society and the Christian 
religion." His serene countenance, as he stands, with 
his followers, in what he called the sweet and clear air 
of Pennsylvania, all unarmed, beneath the spreading 
elm, forming the great treaty of friendship with the 
untutored Indians, — who fill with savage display the 
surrounding forest as far as the eye can reach, — not to 
wrest their lands by violence, but to obtain them by 
peaceful purchase, is, to my mind, the proudest picture 
in the history of our country. " The great God," said 
this illustrious Quaker, in his words of sincerity and 
truth, addressed to the Sachems, " has written his law 
in our hearts, by which we are taught and commanded 
to love and to help, and to do good to one another. 
It is not our custom to use hostile weapons against our 
fellow-creatures, for which reason we have come un- 
armed. Our object is not to do injury, but to do good. 
We have met, then, in the broad pathway of good faith 
and good will, so that no advantage can be taken on 
either side, but all is to be openness, brotherhood, and 
love ; while all are to be treated as of the same flesh and 
blood." t These are, indeed, words of True Greatness. 
" Without any carnal weapons," says one of his com- 

* Preface to Penn's Constitniion. 

t Clarksou's Life of Penn, I. cap. 18. 



Il6 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

panions, " we entered the land, and inhabited therein, 
as safe as if there had been thousands of garrisons." 
" This little State," says Oldmixon, " subsisted in the 
midst of six Indian nations, without so much as a Militia 
for its defence." A Great Man, worthy of the mantle 
of Penn, the venerable philanthropist, Clarkson, in his 
life of the founder of Pennsylvania, says, " The Penn- 
sylvanians became armed, though without arms; they 
became strong,'though without strength ; they became 
safe, without the ordinary means of safety. The con- 
stable's staff was the only instrument of authority 
amongst them for the greater part of a century, and 
never, during the administration of Penn, or that of his 
proper successors, was there a quarrel or a war." * 

Greater than the divinity that doth hedge a king, is 
the divinity that encompasses the righteous man, and 
the righteous people. The flowers of prosperity smiled 
in the blessed footprints of William Penn. His people 
were unmolested and happy, while (sad, but true con- 
trast ! ) those of other colonies, acting upon the policy 
of the world, building forts, and showing themselves in 
arms, not after receiving provocation, but merely in the 
anticipation, or from the fear, of insults or danger, were 
harassed by perpetual alarms, and pierced by the sharp 
arrows of savage war. 

This pattern of a Christian commonwealth never fails 
to arrest the admiration of all who contemplate its 
beauties. It drew an epigram of eulogy from the 
caustic pen of Voltaire, and has been fondly painted by 
many virtuous historians. Every ingenuous soul in 
our day offers willing tribute to those celestial graces 

* Life of Penn, II. cap. 23. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 117 

of justice and humanity, by the side of wliich the flinty 
hardness of the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock seems 
coarse and earthly. 

But let us not confine ourselves to barren words, in 
recognition of virtue. While we see the right, and 
approve it too, let us dare to pursue it. Let us now, 
in this age of civilization, surrounded by Christian na- 
tions, be willing to follow the successful example of 
William Penn, surrounded by savages. Let us, while) 
recognizing those transcendent ordinances of God, th^ 
Law of Right and the Law of Love, — the double 
suns which illumine the moral universe, — aspire to tho^ 
True Glory, and, what is higher than Glory, the great \ 
good of taking the lead in the disarming of the nations. ' 
Let us abandon the system of Preparations for War in 
time of Peace, as irrational, unchristian, vainly prodigal 
of expense, and having a direct tendency to excite the 
very Evil against which it professes to guard. Let the 
enormous means, thus released from iron hands, be de- 
voted to labors of Beneficence. Our battlements shall 
be schools, hospitals, colleges, and churches ; our ar- 
senals shall be libraries ; our navy shall be peaceful 
ships, on errands of perpetual commerce; our army 
shall be the teachers of youth, and the ministers of 
religion. This is indeed the cheap defence of nations. 
In such entrenchments what Christian soul can be 
touched with fear. Angels of the Lord shall throw 
over the land an invisible, but impenetrable panoply ; 

Or if virtue feeble were, 

Heaven itself would sloop to her.* 

* These are the concluding words of that most exquisite creation 
of early genius, the Comus. I have seen them in Milton's own 



118 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

At the thought of such a change in pohcy, the imagi- 
nation loses itself in the vain effort to follow the various 
streams of happiness, which gush forth, as from a thou- 
sand hills. Then shall the naked be clothed and the 
hungry fed. Institutions of science and learning shall 
crown every hill-top ; hospitals for the sick, and other 
retreats for the unfortunate children of the world, for 
all who suffer in any way, in mind, body or estate, shall 
nestle in every valley ; while the spires of new churches 
shall leap exulting to the skies. The whole land shall 
testify to the change ; art shall confess it in the new 
inspiration of the canvas and the marble ; the harp of 
the poet shall proclaim it in a loftier rhyme. Above 
all, the heart of man shall bear witness to it, in the 
elevation of his sentiments, in the expansion of his 
affections, in his devotion to the highest truth, in his 
appreciation of True Greatness. The eagle of our 
country, without the terror of his beak, and dropping 
the forceful thunderbolt from his pounces, shall soar, 

hand-wriling, inscribed by himself, during his travels in Italy, as a 
motto in an Allium ; thus showing that they were regarded by him 
as expressing an important practical truth. The truth, which is thus 
emlialmed by the grandest poet of modern times, is also illustrated, 
in familiar words, by the most graceful poet of antiquity. 

Integer vita? scelerisque purus, 

Non eget Mauri jaculis, neque arcu, • 

Nee venenatis gravida sagiitis. 

Fusee, pharetra. 

Dryden pictures the same idea in some of his most magical lines: 

A milk-white hind, immortal and unchanged, 
Fed on the lawns, and in the forest ranged. 
Without unspotted, innocent within, 
She feared no danger, for she knexc no sin. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 119 

with the olive of Peace, into untried realms of ether, 
nearer to the sun. 

And here let us review the field over which we have 
passed. We have beheld War, sanctioned by Interna- 
tional Law, as a nnode of determining justice between 
Nations, elevated into an established custom, defined 
and guarded by a complex code, known as the Laws 
of War; we have delected its origin in an appeal, 
not to the moral and intellectual part of man's nature, 
in which alone is Justice, but in an appeal to that 
low part of his nature, which he has in common 
Avith the beasts ; we have contemplated its infinite 
miseries to the human race ; we have weighed its suffi- 
ciency as a mode of determining justice between 
nations, and found that it is a rude appeal to force, or a 
gigantic game of chance, in which God's children are 
profanely dealt with as a pack of cards, while, in its 
unnatural wickedness, it is justly likened to the mon- 
strous and impious custom of Trial by Battle, which 
disgraced the dark ages ; — thus showing that, in this 
period of boastful civilization, justice between nations 
is determined by the same rules of barbarous, brutal 
violence, which once controlled the relations between 
individuals. We have next considered the various 
prejudices by which War is sustained ; founded on a 
false belief in its necessity ; on the practice of nations, 
past and present ; on the infidelity of the Christian 
Church ; on a false idea of honor ; on an exaggerated 
idea of the duties of patriotism ; and finally, that monster 
prejudice, which draws its vampire life from the vast 
Preparations in time of peace for War ; — especially 



120 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

dwelling, at this stage, upon the thriftless, irrational, and 
unchristian character of these Preparations ; — hailing 
also the auguries of their overthrow, and catching a 
vision of the surpassing good that will be achieved, 
when the boundless means, thus barbarously employed, 
shall be dedicated by our Republic to the works of 
Peace, opening the serene path to that righteousness 
which exalteth a Nation. 

And now, if it be asked why, on this National Anni- 
versary, in considering the true grandeur of nations, 
I have dwelt, thus singly and exclusively, on War, it is, 
because War is utterly and irreconcilably inconsistent 
with True Greatness. Thus far mankind have wor- 
shipped, in military Glory, a phantom idol, compared 
with which the colossal images of ancient Babylon or 
modern Hindostan are but toys ; and we, in this blessed 
land of freedom, in this blessed day of light, are among 
the idolaters. The Heaven-descended injunction. Know 
thyself, still speaks to an unheeding world from the dis- 
tant letters of gold at Delphi ; Know thyself; know that 
the moral nature is the most nolle part of man, tran- 
scending far that part which is the seat of passion, strife, 
and W^ar ; nobler than the intellect itself. And the 
human heart, by its untutored judgments, — rendering 
spontaneous homage to the virtues of Peace, — points to 
the same truth. It admonishes the military idolater, 
that it is not the bloody combats, even of the bravest 
chiefs, even of the gods themselves, — as they echo 
from the resounding lines of the great Poet of War, — 
which have received the warmest admiration ; but 
those two scenes, in which he has painted the gentle, 
unwarlike affections of our nature, the Parting of Hector 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF KATIONS. 121 

and Andromache, and the Supplication of Priam. In 
this definitive election of the peaceful pictures of Homer, 
the soul of man, inspired by a better wisdom than that 
of books, and drawn unconsciously by the Heavenly 
attractions of what is Truly Great, has acknowledged, 
by a touching instance, the vanity of military Glory. 
The Beatitudes of Christ, which shrink from saying 
" Blessed are the War-Makers," inculcate the same 
lesson. Reason affirms and repeats what the heart has 
prompted, and Christianity declared. Suppose War to 
be decided by Force, where is the Glory ? Suppose it 
to be decided by Chance, where is the Glory ? Surely, 
in other ways True Greatness lies. Nor is it difficult to 
tell where. 

True Greatness consists in imitating, as near as is 
possible for finite man, the perfections of an Infinite 
Creator ; above all, in cultivating those highest perfec- 
tions, Justice and Love ; — Justice, which, like that of St. 
Louis, shall not swerve to the right hand or to the left ; 
Love, which, like that of William Penn, shall regard all 
mankind of kin. " God is angry," says Plato, " when 
any one censures a man like himself, or praises a man 
of an opposite character. And the God-like man is 
the good man." * And again, in another of those lovely 
dialogues, vocal with immortal truth, " Nothing resem- 
bles God more than that man among us who has arrived 
at the highest degree of justice." t The True Great- 
ness of Nations is in those qualities which constitute the 
True Greatness of the individual. It is not in extent of 
territory, or in vastness of population, or in wealth ; not 

* Minos, § 12. t Thecetelus, § 87. 



122 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

in fortifications, or armies, or navies ; not in the phos- 
phorescent glare of fields of battle ; not in Golgothas, 
though covered by monuments that kiss the clouds ; for 
all these are the creatures and representatives of those 
qualities in our nature, which are unlike any thing in 
God's nature. Nor is it to be found in triumphs of the 
intellect alone, — in literature, learning, science, or art. 
The polished Greeks, our masters in the delights of 
language, and in range of thought, and the command- 
ing Romans, overawing the earth with their power, 
were little more than splendid savages. And the age of 
Louis XIV. of France, spanning so long a period of 
ordinary worldly magnificence ; thronged by marshals, 
bending under military laurels ; enlivened by the unsur- 
passed comedy of Moliere ; dignified by the tragic 
genius of Corneille ; illumined by the splendors of 
Bossuet ; is degraded by immoralities, that cannot be 
mentioned without a blush ; by a heartlessness, in com- 
parison with which the ice of Nova Zembla is warm ; 
and by a succession of deeds of injustice, not to be 
washed out by the tears of all the recording angels of 
Heaven. 

The True Greatness of a Nation cannot be in 
triumphs of the intellect alone. Literature and art 
may enlarge the sphere of its influence ; they may 
adorn it ; but they are in their nature but accessaries. 
The True Grandeur of Humanity is in moral elevation^ 
sustained^ enlightened., and decorated by the intellect of 
man. The surest tokens of this Grandeur, in a State, 
are that Christian Beneficence, which difl^uses the great- 
est happiness among the greatest number, and that pas- 
sionless, God-like Justice, which controls the relations 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 123 

of the State to other States, and to all the people com- 
mitted to its charge. 

But War crushes, with bloody heel, all benefi- 
cence, all happiness, all justice, all that is God-like in 
man. It suspends every commandment of the Deca- 
logue. It sets at naught every principle of the Gospel. 
It silences all law, human as well as divine, except only 
that blaspliemous code of its own, the Laws of War. 
If, in its dismal annals, there is any cheerful passage, 
be assured that it is not inspired by a martial Fury. 
Let it not be forgotten, — let it ever be borne in mind, 
as you ponder this theme, — tliat the virtues, which shed 
their charm over its horrors, are all borrowed of Peace ; 
they are emanations of the Spirit of Love, which is so 
strong in the heart of man, that it survives the rudest 
assaults. The flowers of gentleness, of kindliness, of 
fidelity, of humanity, which flourish, in unregarded 
luxuriance, in the rich meadows of Peace, receive un- 
wonted admiration when we discern them in War, like 
violets, shedding their perfume on the perilous edges of 
the precipice, beyond the smiling borders of civiliza- 
tion. God be praised for all the examples of magnani- 
mous virtue, which he has vouchsafed to mankind ! 
God be praised, that the Roman Emperor, about to start 
on a distant expedition of War, encompassed by squad- 
rons of cavalry, and by golden eagles which swayed in 
the winds, stooped from his saddle to listen to the 
prayer of the humble widow, demanding justice for the 
death of her son ! * God be praised, that Sydney, on 

* This most admired instance of justice, according to the legends 
of tlie Catholic Church, opened to Trajan, although a heathen, the 
gates of salvation. Dante found the scene and the visibilc parlare 



124 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

the field of battle, gave, with dying hand, the cup of 
cold water to the dying soldier! That single act of 
self- forgetful sacrifice has consecrated the fenny field 
of Zutphen, far, O, far beyond its battle ; it has con- 
secrated thy name, gallant Sydney, beyond any feat of 
thy sword, beyond any triumph of thy pen ! But there 
are humble suppliants for Justice, in other places than 
the camp ; there are hands outstretched, elsewhere than 
on fields of blood, for so little as a cup of cold water; 
the world constantly affords opportunities for deeds of 
hke Greatness. But, remember well, that these are not 
the product of War. They do not spring from enmity, 
hatred, and strife ; but from those benign sentiments, 
whose natural and ripened fruit, of joy and blessing, 
can be found only in Peace. If, at any time, they 
appear in the soldier, it is not because^ but notwith- 
stmiding^ he is the hireling of battle. Let me not be 
told, then, of the virtues of War. Let not the acts of 
generosity and sacrifice, which have blossomed on its 
fields, be invoked in its defence. From such a giant 
root of bitterness no True Good can spring. The poi- 
sonous tree, in Oriental imagery, though watered by 
nectar, and covered with roses, can produce only the 
fruit of death ! 

Casting our eyes over the history of nations, with hor- 
ror we discern the succession of murderous slaughters, 
by which their Progress has been marked. Even as 
the hunter traces the wild beast, when pursued to his 
lair, by the drops of blood on the earth, so we follow 

of the widow and Emperor storied on the walls of Purgatory, and 
he has transmitted them in a passage -vVhich commends itself hardly 
less than any in the Divine Voem. — Purgatorio^ Canto X. 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 125 

Man, faint, weary, staggering witli wounds, through the 
Black Forest of the Past, which he has reddened with 
his gore. O, let it not be in the future ages, as in 
those which we now contemplate ! Let the Grandeur 
of man be discerned, not in bloody victories, or in 
ravenous conquests, but in the blessings which he has 
secured ; in the good he has accomplished ; in the tri- 
umphs of Beneficence and Justice ; in the establishment 
of Perpetual Peace. 

As the ocean washes every shore, and, with all-em- 
bracing arms, clasps every land, while, on its heaving 
bosom, it bears the products of various climes ; so Peace 
surrounds, protects, and upholds all other blessings. 
Without it commerce is vain, the ardor of industry is 
restrained, justice is arrested, happiness is blasted, vir- 
tue sickens and dies. 

And Peace has its own peculiar victories, in compari- 
son with which Marathon and Bannockburn and Bunker 
Hill, fields held sacred in the history of human free- 
dom, shall lose their lustre. Our own Washington 
rises to a truly heavenly stature, — not when we follow 
him over the ice of the Delaware to the capture of 
Trenton, — not when we behold him victorious over 
Cornwallis at Yorktown, — but when we regard him, in 
noble deference to justice, refusing the kingly crown 
which a faithless soldieiy proffered, and, at a later day, 
upholding the peaceful neutrality of the country, while 
he received unmoved the clamor of the people wick- 
edly crying for War. What Glory of battle in Eng- 
land's annals will not fade by the side of that great act 
of Justice, by which her Parliament, at a cost of one 
hundred million dollars, gave freedom to eight hundred 



I 



126 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

thousand slaves! And when the day shall come (may 
these eyes be gladdened by its beams!) that shall wit- 
ness an act of greater Justice still, the peaceful emanci- 
pation of three millions of our fellow-men, " guilty of a 
skin not colored as our own," now, in this land of jubi- 
lant freedom, held in gloomy bondage, then shall there 
be a victory, in comparison with which that of Bunker 
Hill shall be as a farthing-candle held up to the sun. 
That victory shall need no monument of stone. It shall 
be written on the grateful hearts of uncounted multi- 
tudes, that shall proclaim it to the latest generation. It 
shall be one of the famed land-marks of civilization ; 
nay, more, it shall be one of the links in the golden 
chain by which Humanity shall connect itself with the 
throne of God. 

As man is liigher than the beasts of the field ; as the 
angels are higher than man ; as Christ is higher than 
Mars ; as he that ruleth his spirit is higher than he that 
taketh a city, so are the victories of Peace higher than 
the victories of War. 

Far be from us, fellow-citizens, on tliis Festival, the 
pride of national victory, and the illusions of national 
freedom, in which we are too prone to indulge. None of 
you make rude boasts of individual prosperity, individ- 
ual possessions, individual power, or individual bravery. 
But there can be only one and the same rule, whether 
in morals or in conduct, for nations and individuals ; 
and our country will act wisely, and in the spirit of 
True Greatness, by emulating, in its public behavior, 
the reserve and modesty which are universally com- 
mended in private life. Let it cease to vaunt itself and 
to be puffed up ; but rather brace itself, by firm resolves 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 127 

and generous aspirations, to the duties before it. We 
have but half done, when we have made ourselves free. 
Let not the scornful taunt, wrung from the bitter expe- 
rience of the early French revolution, be directed at 
us: '' 'I'hey wish to he free; but know not how to be 
just.'''' Freedom is not an end in itself, but a means 
only, — a means of securing Justice and Beneficence, in 
which alone is happiness, the real end and aim of Na- 
tions, as of every human heart. It becomes us to inquire 
earnestly, if there is nof much to be done by which 
these can be advanced. ( If I have succeeded in im- 
pressing, on your minds, the truths, which 1 have en- 
deavored to uphold to-day, you will be ready, as faithful 
citizens, alike of our own Republic, and of the universal 
Christian Commonwealth, to join in efforts to abolish the 
Arbitrament of War, to suppress International Lynch 
Law, and to induce the Disarming of the Nations, as 
measures indispensable to the establishment of Perma- 
nent Peace — that grand, comprehensive blessing, at 
once the child and parent of all those guardian virtues, 
M'ithout which there can be no National Honor, no 
National Glory, no True Grandeur of Nations ! 

To this Great Work let me summon you. That 
Future, which filled the lofty visions of the sages and 
bards of Greece and Rome, which was foretold by the 
prophets and heralded by the evangelists, when man, in 
Happy Isles, or in a new Paradise, shall confess the 
loveliness of Peace, may be secured by your care, if 
not for yourselves, at least for your children. Believe 
that yuii can do it, and you can do it. The true golden 
age is before you, not behind you. If man has been 
driven once from Paradise, while an angel, with a 



128 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

flaming sword, forbade his return, there is another 
Paradise, even on earth, which he may form for him- 
self, by the cultivation of knowledge, religion, and the 
kindly virtues of life ; where the confusion of tongues 
shall be dissolved in the union of hearts;; and joyous 
Nature, borrowing prolific charms from the prevailing 
Harmony, shall spread her lap with unimagined boun- 
ty, and there shall be a perpetual jocund spring, and 
sweet strains borne on " the odoriferous wing of gentle 
gales," through valleys of delight, more pleasant than 
the Vale of Tempe, richer than the garden of the Hes- 
perides, with no dragon to guard its golden fruit. ' 

Let it not be said that the age does not demand this 
work. The robber conquerors of the Past, from their 
fiery sepulchres, demand it ; the precious blood of 
millions unjustly shed in War, crying from the ground, 
demands it ; the voices of all good men demand it ; 
the conscience, even of the soldier, whispers " Peace." 
There are considerations, springing from our situation 
and condition, which fervently invite us to take the lead 
in this work. Here should bend the patriotic ardor of 
the land ; the ambition of the statesman ; the efforts of 
the scholar ; the pervasive influence of the press ; the 
mild persuasion of the sanctuary ; the early teachings 
of the school. Here, in ampler ether and diviner air, 
are untried fields for exalted triumphs, more truly 
worthy the American name, than any snatched from 
rivers of blood. War is known as the Last Reason of 
Kings. Let it be no reason of our Republic. Let us 
renounce, and throw off forever, the yoke of a tyranny 
more oppressive than any in the annals of the world. 
As those standing on the mountain-tops first discern the 



THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 129 

coming beams of morning, let lis, from the vantage- 
ground of liberal institutions, first recognize the ascend- 
ing sun of a new era ! Lift high the gates, and let the 
King of Glory in, — the King of True Glory, — of 
Peace. I catch the last words of music from the lips 
of innocence and beauty ; * 

And let the whole earth lic filled with His Glory ! 

It is a beautiful picture in Grecian story, that there 
was at least one spot, the small Island of Dclos, dedica- 
ted to the Gods, and kept at all times sacred from War. 
No hostile foot ever sought to press this kindly soil ; 
and the citizens of all countries here met, in common 
worship, beneath the a^gis of inviolable Peace. So let 
us dedicate our beloved country ; and may the bless- 
ed consecration be felt, in all its parts, every where 
throughout its ample domain ! The Temple of Honor 
shall be surrounded, liere at last, by the Temple of 
Concord, that it may never more be entered through 
any portal of War ; the horn of Abundance shall over- 
flow at its gates; the angel of Religion shall be the 
guide over its steps of flashing adamant ; while within 
its enraptured courts, purged of Violence and Wrong, 
Justice, returned to the earth from her long exile in 
the skies, with mighty scales for Nations as for men, 
shall rear her serene and majestic front ; and by her 
side, greatest of all, Charity, sublime in meekness, 
hoping all and enduring all, shall divinely temper every 
righteous decree and, with words of infinite cheer, 
shall inspire those Good Works that cannot vanish 



* The services of the choir at the Church, wliere the Oration was 
delivered, were performed by the youthful daughters of the public 
schools of Boston. 

VOL. I. 9 



130 THE TRUE GRANDEUR OF NATIONS. 

away. And the future chiefs of the Ecpublic, destmed 
to uphold the Glories of a new era, unspotted by human 
blood, shall be " the first in Peace, and the first in the 
hearts of their countrymen." 

But while seeking these blissful Glories for ourselves, 
let us strive to extend them to other lands. Let the 
bugles sound the Truce of God to the whole world for- 
ever. Let the selfish boast of the Spartan women 
become the grand chorus of mankind, that they have 
never seen the smoke of an enemy's camp. Let the 
iron belt of martial music, which now encompasses the 
earth, be exchanged for the golden cestus of Peace, 
clothing all with celestial beauty. History dwells with 
fondness on the reverent homage that was bestowed, 
by massacring soldiers, upon the spot occupied by the 
Sepulchre of the Lord. Vain man ! to restrain his 
regard to a few feet of sacred mould ! The whole 
earth is the Sepulchre of the Lord ; nor can any right- 
eous man profane any part thereof. Let us recognize 
this truth, and now, on this Sabbath of our country, 
lay a new stone in the grand Temple of Universal 
Peace, whose dome shall be as lofty as the firmament 
of Heaven, as broad and comprehensive as the earth 
itself. 



THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, THE ARTIST, 
THE PHILANTHROPIST. AN ORATION BE- 
FORE THE PHI BETA KAPPA SOCIETY OF 
HARVARD UNIVERSITY, AT THEIR ANNI- 
VERSARY, AUGUST 27, 1846. 



" Then I would say to the young disciple of Truth and Beauty., 
who would know how to satisfy the noble impulse of his heart, 
through every opposition of the century, — I would say, Give the 
world beneath your influence a direction towards the good, and the 
tranquil rhnhm of time will bring its development." — Schillek. 



THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, THE ARTIST, 
THE PHILANTHROPIST. 



To-day is the festival of our fraternity, sacred to 
learning, to friendship, and to truth. From many 
places, remote and near, we have come together be- 
neath the benediction of Alma Mater. We have walked 
in the grateful shelter of her rich embowering trees. 
Friend has met friend, classmate has pressed the hand 
of classmate, while the ruddy memories of youth and 
early study have risen upon the soul. And now we 
have come up to this church, a company of brothers, in 
the long, well ordered procession, commencing with 
the silver locks of reverend age, and closing with the 
fresh forms that glow with the golden blood of youth. 

With hearts of gratitude, we greet among our num- 
ber those whose lives are crowned by desert ; especially 
him who, returning from conspicuous cares in a foreign 
land, now graces our chief seat of learning ; * and not 
less him who, closing, in the high service of the Univer- 
sity, a life-long career of probity and honor, now volun- 

* Hon. Edward Everett, President of Harvard Universit3\ 



134 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

tarily withdraws to a well-earned repose.* We salute 
at once the successor and the predecessor, — the rising 
and the setting sun. And ingenuous youth, in whose 
bosom are enfolded the germs of untold excellence, 
whose ardent soul sees visions which are closed to 
others by the hand of Time, commands our reverence, 
not less than age, rich in experience and honor. The 
Present and the Past, with all their works, we may 
know and measure ; but the triumphs of the Future are 
unknown and immeasuarable ; and in the yet untried 
powers of youth there is a vastness of promise tran- 
scending the realities of life. Welcome, then, not less 
to the young than the old ; and may this our holiday 
brighten with harmony and joy ! 

As the eye wanders around our circle, it seeks in 
vain for a beloved form, who, for many years, occupied 
the seat which you now fill, xMr, President. I might 
have looked to behold him on this occasion. But death, 
since we last met together, has borne him away. The 
love of friends, the devotion of pupils, the prayers of 
the nation, the concern of the world, could not shield 
him from the inexorable shaft. When I apply to him 
those admirable words which the genius and friendship 
of Clarendon bestowed upon Falkland, that " he was a 
person of prodigious parts of learning and knowledge, 
of inimitable sweetness and delight in conversation, of 
flowing and obliging humanity and goodness to man- 
kind, and of primitive simplicity and integrity of life," f 
I need not add the name of Story. To dwell on his 



* Hon. Josiah Q,uincy, late President of Harvard University, 
t History of the Rebellion, Book VII. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 135 

character, and all that he has done, were a worthy- 
theme. But his is not the only dear countenance which 
returns no answering smile. 

This year our Society, according to custom, has 
published the catalogue of its members, marking by a 
star the insatiate archery of death in the brief space of 
four years. In no period of its history, equally short, 
have such shining marks been found. 

" Now kindred merit fills the sable bier, 
Now lacerated friendship claims a tear ; 
Year chases year, decay pursues decay ; 
Still drops some joy from withering life away." 

Scholarship, Jurisprudence, Art, Humanity, each has 
been called to mourn its chosen champion. Pickering, 
the Scholar, Story, the Jurist, Allston, the Artist, 
Channing, the Philanthropist, have been removed. 
When our last catalogue was published, they were all 
living, each in his field of usefulness. Our catalogue 
of this year gathers them together with the dead. 
Sweet and exalted companionship! They were joined 
in their early lives, in their fame, in their death. They 
were brethren of our fraternity, sons of Alma Mater. 
Story and Channing were classmates. Pickering pre- 
ceded them by two years only ; Allston followed them 
by two years. As we cast our eyes upon the closing 
lustre of the last century, we discern this brilliant 
group, whose mortal light is now obscured. After the 
toils of his long life, Pickering sleeps serenely, in the 
place of his birth, near the honored dust of his father. 
Channing, Story, and Allston have been laid to rest in 
Cambridge, where they first tasted together of the tree 
of life. Allston in the adjoining church-yard, within 



136 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

sound of his voice who now addresses you. Channing 
and Story in the pleasant, grassy bed of Mount Auburn, 
in the shadow of beautiful trees, whose falling autumnal 
leaves are the fit emblem of the generations of men. 

It was the custom in ancient Rome, on solemn occa- 
sions, to bring forward the images of departed friends, 
arrayed in their robes of office, and carefully adorned, 
while some one recounted what they had done, in the 
hope of refreshing the memory of their deeds, and of 
inspiring the living with new impulses to virtue. " For 
who," says the ancient historian, " can behold without 
emotion the forms of so many illustrious men, thus 
living as it were and breathing together in his presence ? 
or what spectacle can be conceived more great and 
striking ? " * The images of our departed brothers are 
present here to-day, not in sculptured marble, but 
graven on our hearts. We behold them again, as in 
life. They seem to mingle in our festival, and to cheer 
us by their example. It were well to catch the oppor- 
tunity of observing together the lineaments of their 
truthful, simple characters, and of dwelling anew, with 
the warmth of living affection, upon the virtues by which 
they are commended to our souls. But while we thus 
devote the hour to their memory, let us especially seek 
to comprehend and reverence the great interests which 
they lived to promote. Pickering, Story, Allston, Chan- 
ning ! Their names alone, without addition, awaken a 
response, which, like the far-famed echo of the woods 
of Dodona, will prolong itself through the livelong day. 
But great as they are, we feel their insignificance by 

* Hampton's Polybius, Book VI. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 137 

the side of the causes to which their days were conse- 
crated, — Knowledge^ Justice^ Beauty^ Love^ the com- 
prehensive attributes of God. Illustrious on earth, they 
were the lowly and mortal ministers of lofty and 
immortal truth. It is, then, the Scholar, the Jurist, 
THE Artist, the Philanthropist, whom we celebrate 
to-day, and whose pursuits will be the theme of my 
discourse. 

And here, on this threshold, let me say, what is 
implied in the very statement of my subject, that, in 
offering these tributes, I seek no occasion for personal 
eulogy, or biographical details. My aim is to commem- 
orate the men, but more to advance the objects which 
they so successfully served. Reversing the order in 
which our brothers left us, I shall take the last first. 

John Pickering, the Scholar, died in the month 
of ]\Iay, 1846, aged sixty-nine, within a short period of 
that extreme goal which is the allotted limit of human 
life. By scholar, I mean a cultivator of liberal studies, 
a student of knowledge in its largest sense, — not 
merely classical, not excluding what is exclusively 
called science in our days, but which was unknown 
when the title of scholar was first established ; for 
though Cicero dealt a sarcasm at Archimedes, he spoke 
with higher truth when he beautifully recognized the 
common bond between all departments of knowlcdire. 
The brother v/hom we now mourn was a scholar, a 
student, as long as he lived. He did not take his place 
merely among what are called, by generous courtesy, 
Educated Men^ with most of whom education is past 
and gone, — men who have studied ; he studied always 



13S THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

Life was to him an unbroken lesson, pleasant with the 
sweets of knowledge and the consciousness of improve- 
ment. 

The world knows and reveres his learning ; they 
only, whose privilege it was to partake somewhat of 
his daily life, fully know the modesty of his character. 
His knowledge was such that he seemed to be ignorant 
of nothing, while, in the perfection of his humility, he 
might seem to know nothing. By learning conspicuous 
before the world, his native diffidence withdrew him 
from its personal observation. Surely learning so great, 
which claimed so little, will not be forgotten. The 
modesty, which detained him in retirement during life, 
shall introduce him now that he is dead. Strange 
reward ! The merit, which shrank from the living gaze, 
is now observed of all men. The soft voice of humil- 
ity is returned, in pealing echoes, from the tomb. 

In speaking of Pickering, I place in the front his 
modesty and his learning, the two attributes by which 
he will always be remembered. I might enlarge on 
his sweetness of temper, his simplicity of life, his kind- 
ness to the young, his sympathy with studies of all 
kinds, his sensibility to beauty, his conscientious char- 
acter, his passionless mind. Could he speak to us with 
regard to himself, he might employ the words of self- 
painting which dropped from the candid pen of his 
great predecessor in the cultivation of Grecian literature, 
the leader in its revival in Europe, as Pickering was, 
in some sort, in America, — the urbane and learned 
Erasmus. " For my own part," says the early scholar 
to his English friend, John Colet, " I best know my 
own failings, and therefore shall presume to give a 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 139 

character of myself. You have in me a man of little 
or no fortune, a stranger to ambitiofT, of a strong pro- 
pensity to loving-kindness and friendship, without any 
boast of learning, but a great admirer of it ; one who 
has a profound veneration for any excellence in others, 
however he may feel the want of it in himself; who 
can readily yield to others in learning, but to none in 
integrity ; a man sincere, open, and free ; a hater of 
falsehood and dissimulation ; of a mind lowly and up- 
right ; who boasts of nothing but an honest heart." * 

I have called him the Scholar ; for it is in this char- 
acter that he leaves so choice an example of excellence. 
But the triumphs of his life are enhanced by the 
variety of his labors, and especially by his long career 
at the bar. He was a lawyer, whose days were worn 
in the faithful and uninterrupted practice of his profes- 
sion, busy with clients, careful of their concerns, both 
in court and out of court. Each day witnessed his 
untiring exertions in scenes having little that was 
attractive to his gentle and studious nature. Fie was 
formed to be a seeker of truth rather than a defender 
of wrong ; and he found less satisfaction in the hoarse 
strifes of the bar than in the peaceful conversation of 
books. To him litigation w^as a sorrv feast, and a well- 
filled docket of cases not unlike the curious and now 
untasted dish of " thistles," which sometimes formed a 
part of a Roman banquet. He knew that the duties of 
the profession were important and useful, but felt that 
even their successful performance, when unattended by 
a generous juridical culture, gave a slender title to 
regard ; while they were less pleasant and ennobling far 

* Erasmi Epist., Lib. V., Ep. 4. 



140 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

than the disinterested pursuit of learning. He would 
have said, at least«GS regards his own profession, with 
the Lord Archon of the Oceana, " I will stand no more 
to the judgment of lawyers and divines than to that of 
so many other tradesmen.'''' * 

It was the law as a trade^ that he pursued reluc- 
tantly ; while he had especial happiness in the science 
of jurisprudence, to which he devoted many hours res- 
cued from other cares. By his example, and the vari- 
ous contributions of his pen, he elevated and adorned 
the study, and invested it with the charm of liberal 
pursuits. By marvellous assiduity, he was able to lead 
two lives, one producing the fruits of earth, the other 
those of immortality. In him was the union, rare as it 
is grateful, of the lawyer and the scholar. He has 
taught us how much may be done, amidst the toils 
of professional life, for the high concerns of jurispru- 
dence and learning ; while the clear and enduring lus- 
tre of his name, dimming the glow-worm sparkles of 
ordinary forensic success, reminds us, as by contrast, of 
the feeble and fugitive fame which is the lot of the 
mere lawyer, although clients may beat at his gates 
from the earliest cock-crowing at the dawn. 

To describe his multitudinous labors of scholarship 
would be impossible on this occasion. Although im- 
portant contributions to the general sum of knowledge, 
they were of a character that is only slightly appre- 
ciated by the world at large. They were chiefly direct- 
ed to two subjects, — classical studies and general phi- 
lology, if these two may be regarded separately. 

* Harrington's Oceana, 134. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 141 

His early life was marked by a particular interest in 
classical studies. At a time when in our country ac- 
curate and extensive scholarship was rare, he aspired 
to possess it. By daily and nightly vigils he mas- 
tered the great exemplars of antiquity, and found de- 
light in their beauties. His example, for many years, 
exerted a persuasive influence in commending them. 
Bat he sought, by earnest efforts, to promote their 
study in the learned seminaries of our country. With 
unanswerable force, he urged the duty of establishing 
among us a standard of education, in every substantial 
respect commensurate with that in Europe. He de- 
sired to see the American youth receiving on his native 
soil, under the influence of free institutions, a course of 
instruction that should render foreign aid superfluous. 
He had a just pride of country, and wished to behold 
its character respected abroad in the persons of accom- 
plished representatives, well knowing that every Amer- 
ican scholar, wherever he wanders in foreign lands, is 
a living recommendation of the institutions under which 
he has been reared. 

He knew that scholarship of all kinds would gild the 
life of its possessor ; that it would enlarge the resources 
of the advocate ; that it would enrich the voice of the 
pulpit, and strengthen the learning of medicine. He 
knew that it would afford a pleasant companionship in 
hours of relaxation from labor, in periods of sadness, 
and in the evening of life ; that, when once embraced, 
it was more constant than friendship, — attending its 
votary, as an invisible spirit, in the toils of the day, in 
the watches of the night, in the changes of travel, in 
the alternations of fortune and health. 



142 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

In commending classical studies, it would be difficult 
to say that he attached to them any undue importance. 
He showed, by his own example, that he bore them no 
exclusive love. He rightly regarded them as an essen- 
tial part of liberal education, opening the way to other 
realms of knowledge, while they matured the taste 
and invigorated the understanding. In this view all 
will probably concur. It might be questioned, however, 
whether, in our hurried American life, it were pos- 
sible, with proper attention to other studies, to introduce, 
into ordinary classical education, the exquisite skill, 
which is the pride of English scholarship, reminding us 
of the minuteness of finish in Chinese art; or the pon- 
derous and elaborate learning, which is the wonder of 
Germany, reminding us of the disproportion and un- 
natural perspective of a Chinese picture. But much 
may done by the establishment of those habits of accu- 
racy, the result of early and careful instruction, which 
will aid in the appreciation of the severe beauty of 
antiquity, while they become an invaluable standard 
and measure of our attainments in other things. 

The classics possess a peculiar charm, as the models 
I might almost say the masters, of composition and 
thought in ail ages. In the contemplation of these 
august teachers of mankind, we are filled with con- 
flicting emotions. They are the early voice of the 
world, better remembered and more cherished still than 
all the intermediate words that have been uttered, — 
as the language of childhood still haunts us, when the 
impressions of later years have been effaced from the 
mind. But they show with unwelcome frequency the 
tokens of the world's childhood, before passion had 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 143 

yielded to the sway of reason and the affections. 
They want the highest charm of purity, of righteous- 
ness, of elevated sentiments, of love to God and man. 
It is not in the frigid philosophy of the Porch and the 
Academy that we are to seek these ; not in the marvel- 
lous teachings of Socrates, as they come mended by 
the mellifluous words of Plato ; not in the resounding 
line of Homer, on whose inspiring tale of blood Alex- 
ander pillowed his head ; not in the animated strain of 
Pindar, where virtue is pictured in the successful strife 
of an athlete at the Isthmian games ; not in the torrent 
of Demosthenes, dark with self-love and the spirit of 
vengeance ; not in the fitful philosophy and intemper- 
ate eloquence of Tully ; not in the genial libertinism 
of Horace, or the stately atheism of Lucretius. No ; 
these must not be our masters ; in none of these are we 
to seek the way of life. For eighteen hundred years, 
the spirit of these writers has been engaged in con- 
stant contest with the Sermon on the Mount, and whh 
those two sublime commandments on which hang all 
the law and the prophets.* The strife is still pending. 
Heathenism, which has possessed itself of such Syren 
forms, is not yet exorcised. It still tempts the young, 

* Terence, taught, perhaps, by his own hitter experience as a 
slave, has given expression to truth almost Christian, when he says, 
" Homo sum, humani nihil a mealienum puto." 

Heauton. A, 1, Sc. 1. 
And in the Andria, 

" Facile omnes perferre et pati 
Cum quihus erat cunque una ; iis sese dedere, 
Eorum obsequi studiis, advorsus nemini, 
Nunquam prteponens se aliis." 

A. 1, Sc. I. 



144 THE SCHOLAR, THE JUEIST, 

controls the affairs of active life, and haunts the medi- 
tations of age. 

Our own productions, though they may yield to those 
of the ancients in the arrangement of ideas, in method, 
in beauty of form, and in freshness of illustration, are 
far superior in the truth, delicacy, and elevation of their 
sentiments, — above all, in the benign recognition of 
that peculiar Christian revelation, the Brotherhood of 
Mankind. How vain are eloquence and poetry, com- 
pared with this heaven-descended truth ! Put in one 
scale that simple utterance, and in the other all the lore 
of Antiquity, with all its accumulating glosses and com- 
mentaries, and the last will be light and trivial in the 
balance. Greek poetry has been likened to the song 
of the nightingale, as she sits in the rich, symmetrical 
crown of the palm-tree, trilling her thick-warbled notes ; 
but even this is less sweet and tender than those words 
of charity to our " neighbor," remote or near, which 
are inspired by Christian love. 

These things cannot be forgotten by the scholar. 
Let him draw from the Past all that it can contribute to 
the great end of life, human progress and happiness, — 
progress, without which happiness is vain. But let him 
close his soul to the hardening influence of that spirit, 
which is the more to be dreaded, as it is inculcated or 
insinuated in compositions of such commanding au- 
thority. 

In the department of philology, kindred to that of the 
classics, our Scholar labored with peculiar success. 
Unless some memorandum should be found among his 
papers, as was the case with Sir William Jones, speci- 
fying the languages to which he had been devoted, it 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 145 

may be difficult to frame a list with entire accuracy. 
It is certain that he was familiar with at least nine^ — 
the English, French, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish, Ger- 
man, Romaic, Greek, and Latin; of these he spoke the 
^rstftve. He was less familiar, though well acquaint- 
ed, with the Dutch, Swedish, Danish, and Hebrew ; 
and had explored, with various degrees of care, the 
Arabic, Turkish, Syriac, Persian, Coptic, Sanscrit, Chi- 
nese, Cochin-Chinese, Russian, Egyptian hieroglyph- 
ics, the Malay in several dialects, and particularly the 
Indian languages of America and of the Polynesian 
islands. His labors span immeasurable spaces in the 
world's history, — embracing the distant, primeval San- 
scrit ; the hieroglyphics of Egypt, now awakening from 
the mute repose of centuries ; the polite and learned 
tongues of ancient and modern Europe; the languages 
of Mohammedanism ; the various dialects of the forests 
of North America, and of the sandal-groves of the 
Pacific ; only closing wdth a lingua franca, from an 
unlettered tribe on the coast of Africa, to which his 
attention had been called even after the illness which 
ended in his death. 

This recital alone shows the variety and extent of 
his studies in a department which is supposed to be 
inaccessible, except to peculiar and Herculean toils. 
He had a natural and intuitive perception of the affini- 
ties of languages, and of their hidden relations ; and his 
labors and researches have thrown important light upon 
the general principles that prevail in this science, as 
also on the history and character of individual lan- 
guages. In devising an alphabet of the Indian tongues 
of North America, which has been since adopted in 

VOL. I. 10 



146 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

the Polynesian islands, he rendered brilliant service to 
civilization. It is pleasant to contemplate the scholar 
sending forth from his seclusion this priceless instru- 
ment of improvement. On the beauteous islands once 
moistened by the blood of Cook, newspapers and books 
are printed in a native language, which was reduced to 
a written character by the care and genius of Pickering. 
The Vocabulary of Americanisms, and the Greek and 
English Lexicon, attest still further the variety and 
value of his philological labors ; nor can we suf^ciently 
admire the facility with which, amidst the duties of an 
arduous profession, and the generous efforts of scholar- 
ship, he assumed the appalling task of the lexicographer, 
which Scaliger, we are told, compares to the labors of 
the anvil and the mine. 

There are ignorant, hasty, or supercilious critics, who 
fall into expressions in disparagement of the toils of 
the philologist, treating them sometimes as curious only, 
sometiuies as trivial, or, when they enter into lexicogra- 
phy, sometimes as those of a harmless drudge. It 
might be sufficient to reply to these, that the exercise 
of the intellect in a manner calculated to promote 
forgetfulness of self, and the love of science, opening 
a taste for new and simple pleasures, and extending in 
reality the bounds of human knowledge, is ministering 
essentially to human improvement. But philology may 
claim other suffrages. It is its province to aid in deter- 
mining the character of words, their extraction and 
signification, and in other ways to guide and explain 
the use of language ; nor is it generous, while enjoying 
eloquence, poetry, science, and the many charms of 
Utcrature, to withhold our gratitude from the silent and 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHKOPIST. 147 

sometimes obscure labors in illustration of that great 
instrument of knowledge and delight. 

But the science of Comparative Philology, which our 
Scholar has illustrated so highly, may rank with the 
most shining pursuits. It challenges a place by the 
side of that science which received such development 
from the genius of Cuvier. The study of Comparative 
Anatomy has thrown unexpected light on the physical 
history of the animate creation ; but it cannot be less 
interesting or important to explore the unwritten history 
of the human race in the languages that have been 
spoken, to trace their pedigree, to detect their affinities, — 
seeking the prevailing laws by w^hich they are governed. 
As we comprehend these things, confusion and discord 
retreat, the Fraternity of Mankind stands confessed, 
and the philologist becomes a minister at the altar of 
universal philanthropy. In the study of the Past, he 
learns to anticipate the Future ; and he sees with Leib- 
nitz, in sublime vision, the distant prospect, in the suc- 
cession of ages, of that Unity of the Human Race, 
which shall find its expression in an instrument more 
marvellous than the Infinite Calculus, — a universal lan- 
guage, composed of an alphabet of human thoughts.* 

As the sun drawls moisture from the rill, from the 
stream, from the lake, from the ocean, again to be 
returned in fertilizing showers upon the earth, so did 
our Scholar derive knowledge from all sources, again 
to be diflfused in beneficent influences upon the world. 
He sought it, not in studies only, but in converse with 

* Fonlenelle, Eloge de Leibnitz. Leibnitz, Opera (ed. Dulens), 
Vol. V. p. 7. 



148 THE SCIIOLAK, THE JURIST, 

men, and in the experience of life. His curious essay 
on the Pronunciation of the Ancient Greek Language 
was suggested by listening to the words which fell 
from some Greek sailors, whom the temptations of 
commerce had conducted from their tideless sea to our 
shores. 

Such a character — devoted to labors of wide and 
enduring interest, not restrained by international lines — 
naturally awakened respect and honor wherever learn- 
ing was cultivated. His name was proudly associated 
with many of the illustrious fraternities of science in 
foreign nations, while scholars who could not know him 
face to face, by an amiable commerce of letters sought 
the aid and sympathy of his learning. His death has 
broken these living links of fellowship ; but his name, 
that cannot die, shall continue to bind all who love 
knowledge and virtue to the land which was blessed by 
his presence. 

From the Scholar I pass to the Jurist. Joseph 
Story died in the month of September, 1845, aged 
sixty-six. His countenance, so familiar in this presence, 
was always so beaming with goodness and kindness, 
that its withdrawal seems to lessen most sensibly the 
brightness of the scene. We are assembled near the 
seat of his most pleasant pursuits, among the neighbors 
intimate with his private virtues, close by the home 
hallowed by his domestic altar. These paths he often 
trod ; and all that our eyes may here look upon seems 
to reflect his benignant regard. His two-fold official 
relations with the University, his high judicial station, 
his higher character as a jurist, invest his name with a 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 149 

peculiar interest ; while the unconscious kindness which 
he ever showed to all, and especially to the young, 
touches our hearts, and makes us rise up and call him 
blessed. How fondly would the youth nurtured in 
jurisprudence at his feet, — were such an offering, Al- 
cestis-like, within the allotments of Providence, — have 
prolonged their beloved master's days at the expense of 
their own ! 

The University, by the voice of his learned associate, 
has already rendered its tribute of respect to his name. 
The tribunals of justice, throughout the country, have 
given utterance to their solemn grief; and the funeral 
torch has passed across the sea into foreign lands. 

He has been heard to confess that literature was his 
earliest passion, which yielded only to the summons of 
duty, beckoning him to the toils of professional life ; 
and they who knew him best cannot forget that he 
continued to the last fond of poetry and polite letters, 
and would often turn from the austere countenance of 
Themis to the more kindly Muses. Nor can it be 
doubted that this feature, which points the resemblance 
between him and Selden, Somers, Mansfield, and Black- 
stone, in England, and L'Hopital and D'Aguesseau, in 
France, has added to the brilliancy and perfection of 
his character as a jurist. It would not be easy, in the 
history of jurisprudence, to mention a single person to 
whom its highest palm belongs, who was not a scholar 
also. 

The hardships of the early study of the law, which 
had perplexed the youthful spirit of Spelman, beset 
him with disheartening force. Let the young remem- 
ber his trials and his triumphs, and be of good cheer. 



150 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

According to the custom of his day, while yet a stu- 
dent of law in the town of Marblehead, he undertook 
to read Coke on Littleton, in the large folio edition, 
thatched over with those manifold annotations which 
cause the best-trained lawyer " to gasp and stare." As 
he strove in vain to force his way through its rugged 
page, he was filled with despair. It was but for a 
moment. The tears poured from his eyes upon the 
open book. Those tears were his precious baptism into 
the learning of the law. From that time forth, he 
persevered, with confirmed ardor and confidence, from 
triumph to triumph. 

He was elevated to a seat on the bench of the Su- 
preme Court of the United States, by the side of 
Marshall, at the early age of thirty-two. At the same 
early age, BuUer — reputed the ablest judge of West- 
minster Hall, n the list of those who never arrived at 
the honors of Chief Justice — was induced to renounce 
an income larger than the salary of a judge, to take a 
seat by the side of Mansfield. The parallel continues. 
During the remainder of Mansfield's career on the 
bench, Buller was the friend and associate upon whom 
he chiefly leaned for support ; and history records the 
darling desire of the venerable chief justice, that his 
younger associate should succeed to his seat and chain 
of ofhce ; but these wishes, the hopes of the profession, 
and his own long services, were disregarded by a minis- 
ter who seldom rewarded any but political labors, — I 
mean Mr. Pitt. Our brother, like Buller, was the friend 
and associate of a venerable chief justice, by whose 
side he sat for many years ; nor do I state any fact 
which I should not for the sake of history, when I add, 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 151 

that it was the long-cherished desire of Marshall that 
Story should be his successor. It was ordered other- 
wise ; and he continued a justice of the Supreme Court 
of the United States for the space of thirty-four years, — 
a judicial life of alnaost unexampled length in the his- 
tory of the common law, and of precisely the same 
duration with that of D'Aguesseau, the consummate 
chancellor of France. 

As a judge, he was called upon to administer a most 
extensive jurisdiction, embracing matters which, in 
England, are so variously distributed, that they never 
come before any one court ; and in each department 
he has shown himself second to none other, unless we 
unite with him in deferring to Marshall as the highest 
expounder of a branch peculiar to ourselves, constitu- 
tional law. Nor will it be easy to mention any judge 
who has left behind so large a number of opinions 
which take their place in the first class. It hnppens to 
some to excel in a special branch, to which their learn- 
ing and labor have been directed. He excelled in all. 
He was at home in the feudal niceties of real law, with 
its dependencies of descents, remainders, and executory 
devises; also in the ancient hair-splitting technicalities 
of special pleading, — both creatures of an illiterate 
age, gloomy with black-letter and verbal subtilties ; he 
employed and expounded, with freedom and skill, the 
rules of evidence, the product of a more refined period 
of juridical history ; he was master of the common 
law of contracts, of the wide and interesting expanse 
of commercial law, embracing so large a part of those 
topics which most concern the business of our age ; he 
was familiar with the criminal law, which he adminis- 



152 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

tered with the learning of a judge and the tenderness 
of a parent ; he had compassed the whole circle of 
chancery, both in its jurisdiction and its pleadings, 
touching, as it does, all the interests of life, and sub- 
tilely adapting the common law to our own age ; and 
he ascended with ease to those heights of jurisprudence, 
less trod than others, where are extended the open, 
pleasant demesnes of the admiralty and public la\v, — 
embracing the law of prize, and that comprehensive 
theme which touches history, philosophy, learning, 
literature, all that human experience has recorded or 
established, and that Christianity has declared, — the 
Law of Nations. 

But it was not as a judge only that he served. He 
sought still other means of illustrating the science of 
the law, and added to the cares of judicial life the 
labors of an author and a teacher. To this he was 
moved by his love of the science, by his desire to aid 
in its elucidation, and by the irrepressible instincts of 
his nature, which found in incessant activity the truest 
repose. He was of that rare and happy constitution of 
mind in which occupation is the normal state. He was 
possessed by a genius for labor. Others may moil in 
the law as constantly as he ; but without his loving, suc- 
cessful earnestness of study. What he undertook he 
always did with his heart, soul, and mind ; not with 
reluctant, vain compliance, but with his entire nature 
bent to the task. As in his friendships and in the 
warmth of society, so was he in his studies. His heart 
embraced labor, as his hand grasped the hand of 
friend. 

As a teacher, he should be gratefully remembered 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 153 

here. He was Dane Professor of Law in the Univer- 
sity. By tlie attraction of his name students were 
drawn from remote parts of the Union ; and the Law 
School, which had been a sickly branch, became the 
golden mistletoe of our ancient oak. Besides learning 
unsurpassed in his profession, which he brought to 
these added duties, he displayed other qualities not 
less important in the character of a teacher, — good- 
ness, benevolence, and a willingness to teach. Only a 
good man can be a teacher ; only a benevolent man ; 
only a man willing to teach. He was filled with a 
desire to teach. He sought to mingle his mind with 
that of his pupil. He held it a blessed office to pour 
into the souls of the young, as into celestial urns, the 
fruitful waters of knowledge. The kindly enthusiasm 
of his nature found its response. The law, which is 
sometimes supposed to be harsh and crabbed, became 
inviting under his instructions. Its great principles, 
drawn from the wells of experience and reflection, 
from the sacred rules of right and wrong, from the 
unsounded depths of Christian truth, illustrated by the 
learning of sages and the judgments of courts, he un- 
folded so as best to inspire a love for their study, — 
well knowing that the knowledge we may impart is 
trivial, compared with that awakening of the soul under 
the influence of which the pupil himself becomes a 
teacher. All of knowledge we can communicate is 
finite ; a few pages, a few chapters, a few volumes, 
will embrace it ; but such an influence is of incalcula- 
ble power. It is the breath of a new life ; it is another 
soul. Story taught as a Priest of the law, seeking to 
consecrate other Priests In him the spirit spake, not 



154 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

with the voice of an earthly calling, but with the gentle- 
ness and self-forg3tful earnestness of one pleading in 
behalf of justice, of knowledge, of human happiness. 
His well-loved pupils hung upon his lips, and, as they 
left his presence, confessed a more exalted reverence 
for virtue, and a warmer love of knowledge for its own 
sake. 

The spirit, which filled his teachings, inspired his life. 
He was, in the truest sense of the term, a Jurist, — a 
student and expounder of jurisprudence as a science ; 
not merely a lawyer or a judge, pursuing it as an art. 
This distinction, though readily perceived, is not always 
regarded. 

The members of the profession, whether on the 
bench or at the bar, rarely send their regards beyond 
the matter directly before thetn. The lawyer is too 
often content with the applause of the court-house, the 
approbation of clients, " fat contentions and flowing 
fees." Too seldom in his life does he render volun- 
tary aid in the development of any principle which can 
be felt widely, beyond the limited circle in which he 
moves, or which can help to carry forward or secure 
the landmarks of justice. The judge, in the discharge 
of his duty, applies the law to the cases before him. 
He may do this discreetly, honorably, justly, benignly, 
in such wise that the community, who have looked to 
him for justice, shall pronounce his name with grati- 
tude ; — 

" that his bones, 
When he has run his course and sleeps in blessings, 
May have a tomb of orphan's tears wept on 'em." 

But the function of the mere lawyer or judge, both of 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 155 

them practising law, is widely different from that of 
the jurist, who, whether judge or lawyer, examines 
every principle in the light of science, and seeks, while 
he does justice, to widen and confirm the means of 
justice hereafter. All ages have abounded in lawyers 
and judges ; there is no church-yard that does not con- 
tain their forgotten dust. But the jurist is rare. The 
judge passes the sentence of the law upon the prisoner 
at the bar face to face ; but the jurist, invisible to 
mortal sight, yet speaks, as was said of the Roman 
law, swaying by the reason, when he has ceased to 
govern by the living voice. Such a character does not 
live for the present merely, whether in time or place. 
He lifts himself above its petty temptations, and, yield- 
ing neither to the love of gain nor to the seductions of 
a loud and short-lived praise, perseveres in those serene 
labors which help to build the mighty dome of justice, 
beneath which all men are to seek shelter and peace. 

It is not uncommon to listen to the complaints of 
lawyers and judges, as they liken themselves, in ephem- 
eral fame, to the well-graced actor, of whom only un- 
certain traces remain, when his voice has ceased to 
charm. But they labor for the present only. How can 
they hope to be remembered beyond the present } They 
are, for the most part, the instruments of a temporary 
and perishable purpose. How can they hope for the 
gratitude which attends labors that are imperishable and 
eternal ? They do nothing for all. How can they 
think to be remembered beyond the operation of their 
labors ? So far forth, in time or place, as a man's 
beneficent influence is felt, so far will he be gratefully 
commemorated. Happy may he be, if he has done 



156 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

aught to connect his name with the enduring principles 
of justice ! 

In the world's history, the lawgivers are among the 
highest and most godlike characters. They are the 
reformers of nations. They are the builders of human 
society. They are the fit companions of the master 
poets, who fill it with their melody. Man will never 
forget Homer, Virgil, Dante, Shakspeare, Milton, 
Goethe ; nor those other names of creative force, 
Minos, Solon, Lycurgus, Numa, Justinian, St. Louis, 
Napoleon the legislator. Each of these is too closely 
linked to Human Progress not to be always remem- 
bered. 

In their train follow the company of jurists, whose 
labors have the importance without the form of legisla- 
tion, and who, by their recorded opinions, uttered from 
the chair of a professor, from the bench of a judge, or, 
it may be, from the seclusion of private life, continue 
to rule the nations. Here are Papinian, Tribonian, 
Paulus, Gaius, the ancient time-honored masters of the 
Roman law ; Cujas, its most illustrious expounder in 
modern times, of whom D'Aguesseau said, " Cujas has 
spoken the language of the law better than any modern, 
and perhaps as well as any ancient," and whose re- 
nown, during his life, in the golden age of jurispru- 
dence, was such, that in the public schools of Germany, 
when his name was mentioned, all took ofl?* their hats ; 
Dumoulin, the relative of Queen Elizabeth of England, 
and, like his contemporary, Cujas, the pride of France, 
of whose municipal law he was the most illustrious 
expounder, — of one of whose books it was said, it 
accomplished what thirty thousand soldiers of his mon- 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 157 

arch had failed to do ; Hugo Grotius, the author of that 
grand work, — at times divine, at other times, alas! too 
much of this earth, — the Laws of Peace and War ; 
Pothier, whose professor's chair was kissed in reverence 
by pilgrims from afar, and who, from his recluse life, 
sent forth those treatises, which enter so largely into 
the invaluable codes of France ; the crabbed character. 
Lord Coke, and the silver-tongued magistrate. Lord 
Mansfield, both of whom are among the few exem- 
plars which the jurisprudence of the common law may 
boast in England ; and, descending to our own day, 
Pardessus, of France, to whom commercial and mari- 
time law is under a larger debt, perhnps, than to any 
single mind ; Thibaut, of Germany, the earnest and 
successful advocate of a just scheme for the reduction 
of the unwritten law to the certainty of a written text ; 
Savigny, also of Germany, the renowned illustrator of 
the Roman law, who is yet spared to his favorite 
science ; and in our own country, one now happily 
among us to-day, by his son,* James^Kent, the unques- ■■ 
tioned living head of American jurisprudence. These 
are among the jurists. Let them not be confounded 
with the lawyer, bustling with forensic success, although 
he may have been, like Dunning, the arbiter of West- 
minster Hall, or, like Pinkney, the acknowledged chief 
of the American bar. The great jurist is higher far 
than the lawyer ; as Watt, who invented the steam- 
engine, is higher than the journeyman who feeds its 
fires and pours oil upon its irritated machinery ; as 
Washington is more exalted than the Swiss who, 

* Hon. William Kent, recently appointed Royall Professor of 
Law in Harvard University. 



158 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

indifferent to the cause, barters for money the vigor of 
his arm and the sharpness of his spear. 

The lawyer is the honored artisan of the law. He 
may be surrounded with all the tokens of worldly suc- 
cess, filling the mind, perhaps, with visions destined 
early to be dispersed ; but his labors are on the things 
of to-day. His name is written on the sandy margin 
of the sounding sea, ^oon to be washed away by the 
embossed foam of the tyrannous wave. Not so is the 
name of the jurist. This is inscribed high on the im- 
mortal tablets of the law. The ceaseless flow of ages 
does not wear away their indestructible front ; the hour- 
glass of time refuses to measure the period of their 
duration. 

Into the company of jurists Story has now passed, 
taking a place, not only in the immediate history of 
his country, but in the grander history of civilization. 
It was a saying of his, often uttered in the confidence 
of friendship, that a man may be measured by the 
horizon of his mind, whether it embraced the village, 
town, county, or state in which he lived, or the whole 
broad country, ay, the circumference of the world. 
In this spirit he lived and wrought, elevating himself 
above the Present, both in time and place, and always 
finding in jurisprudence an absorbing interest. Only a 
few days before the illness which ended in his death, 
it was suggested to him, in conversation with regard to 
his intended retirement from the bench, that a wish 
had been expressed by many to see him a candidate 
for the highest political office of the country. He re- 
plied at once, spontaneously, and without hesitation, 
" That the station of President of the United States 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 159 

would not tempt him from his professor's chair, and 
the cahn pursuit of jurisprudence." Thus spoke the 
Jurist. As a lawyer, a judge, a professor, he was 
always a jurist. While administering justice between 
parties, he sought to extract from their cause the ele- 
ments of future justice, and to advance the science of 
the law. He stamped upon his judgments a value 
which is not restrained to the occasions on wliich they 
were pronounced. Unlike mere medals, — of curious 
importance to certain private parties only, — they have 
the currency of the gold coin of the republic, with the 
image and superscription of sovereignty, wherever they 
go, even in loreign lands. 

Many years before his death, his judgments, in mat- 
ters of Admiralty and Prize, had arrested the attention 
of that illustrious judge and jurist, Lord Stowell ; and 
Sir James Mackintosh, a name emblazoned by literature 
and jurisprudence, had said of them, that they were 
"justly admired by all cultivators of the Law of Na- 
tions." * His words have often been cited as authority 
in Westminster Hall, — a tribute to a foreign jurist 
almost unprecedented, as all persons familiar with Eng- 
lish Law will recognize ; and the Chief Justice of 
England has made the remarkable declaration, with 
regard to a point on which Story had differed from the 
Queen's Bench, that his opinion would " at least neu- 
tralize the effect of the English decision, and induce 
any of their courts to consider the question as an open 
one." f In debate, in the House of Lords, Lord Camp- 



* Leuer of Sir James MackiiUosh lo Hon. Edward Everett, dated 
June 3, 1624. 

+ Letter of Lord Denman to Charles Sumner, Esq., dated Septcm- 



160 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

bell characterized him as " greater than any law-writer 
of which England could boast, or which she could bring 
forward, since the days r,f Blackstone ; " and, in a 
letter to our departed brother, the same distinguished 
magistrate said, — "I survey with increased aston- 
ishment your extensive, minute, exact, and familiar 
knowledge of English legal writers in every department 
of the law. A similar testimony to your juridical 
learning, I make no doubt, w^ould be offered by the 
lawyers of France and Germany, as well as of America, 
and we should all concur in placing you at the head of 
the jurists of the present age." His authority was 
acknowledged in France and in Germany, the classic 
lands of jurisprudence ; nor is it too much to say, that, 
at the moment of his death, he enjoyed a renown such 
as had never before been achieved, during life, by any 
jurist of the common law. 

In mentioning these things, I simply state facts, 
without intending presumptuously to assert for our 
brother an}^ precedence in the scale of eminent jurists. 
The extent of his fame is a fact. But it will not be 
forgotten, as a proper contrast to his more than national 
and English celebrity, that the cultivators of the com- 
mon law have been hitherto confined to a narrow and 
insular reputation, and that even its great master has 
received on the Continent no higher designation than 
quidam Cocus^ a certain Coke. 

In the common law was the spirit of freedom ; in 

ber 20, 1840. The case to which Lord Denman referred was that of 
Peters v. The Warren Insurance Company, 3 Sumner's Rep. 389, 
where Mr. Justice Story dissented from the case of Dovaux v. Sal- 
vador, 4 Adolph. & Ellis, 420. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. IGl 

that of the Continent the spirit of science. The com- 
nnon law has given to the world the trial by jury, the 
writ of liaheas corpus^ the system of parliamentary 
representation, the rules and orders of debate, and that 
benign principle which pronounces that its air is too 
pure for a slave to breathe, — perhaps, the five most 
important political establishments of modern times. 
From the Continent has been derived the important 
impulse to the systematic study, arrangement, and 
development of the law ; also the example of Law 
Schools and of Codes. 

Story was bred in the common law ; but while ad- 
miring its vital principles of freedom, he felt how much 
it would gain, if illumined by the torch of science, and 
the light of other systems of jurisprudence. Much of 
the later labors of his life was specially devoted to this 
object ; and under his hands we behold the develop- 
ment of a study, before him little known or regarded, — 
the science of Coniparative Jurisprudence., kindred to 
those other departments of knowledge which are at 
once the token and the harbinger of the peaceful asso- 
ciation of nations. 

I need not add that he emulated the Law Schools of 
the Continent ; " as ever witness for him " this seat of 
learning. 

On more than one occasion, he urged, with conclu- 
sive force, the importance, in our age, of reducing the 
unwritten law to the certainty of a Code, compiling and 
bringing into one body those fragments, which are now 
scattered, in all directions, through the pages of many 
thousand volumes.* His views on this high subject, 

* Encyclopaedia Americana, article Law, Lpgislation, Codes y Ap- 
VOL. 1. 11 



162 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

while they differ from those of John Locke and Jeremy 
Bentham, — both of whom seem to have supposed 
themselves able to clothe a people in a new code, as in 
fresh garments, — would, probably, be found in har- 
mony with the conclusions now adopted by the jurists of 
the continent of Europe, and not unlike those expressed, 
in an earlier age, by Bacon and Leibnitz, the two great- 
est intellects that have ever been applied to topics of 
jurisprudence. * 

In this catholic spirit he showed a superior mind. 
He loved the law with a lover's fondness ; but not with 
a lover's blindness. He could not join with those 
devotees of the common law, by whom it has been enti- 
tled " the perfection of reason," — an anachronism as 
great as the assumed infallibility of the Pope ; as if 
perfection or infallibility were found in this life. He 
was naturally led, in a becoming temper, to contem- 
plate its amendment ; and here is revealed the charac- 
ter of the Jurist, — not content with the Present, but 
thoughtful of the Future. In a letter published since 
his death, he refers, with sorrow, to " what is but too 
common in our profession, a disposition to resist inno- 
vation, even when it is an improvement." It is only 
an elevated mind, that, having mastered the subtilties 
of the law, is willing to reform them. 

And now farewell to thee. Jurist, Master, Benefac- 

pendix to Vol. VII., pp. 5S6-592; Report of the Commissioners of 
Massachusetts on the Codification of the Common Law ; American 
Jurist, Vol. XVII., p. 17. 

* See Bacon's Offer to King James of a Digest of the Laws of Eng- 
I'jnd ; Leibnitz, 0[)era, Epist. XV. ad Kestnerum, Tom. IV., Pars 
4, p. 269 ; Ratio Corporis Juris reconcinnandi, Tom. IV., Pars 3, p. 
235. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 163 

tor, Friend ! May thy spirit continue to inspire a love 
for the science of the law ! May thy example be ever 
fresh in the minds of the young, beaming, as in life, 
with encouragement, kindness, and hope ! 

From the grave of the Jurist, at Mount Auburn, let 
us walk to that of the Artist, who sleeps beneath 
the protecting arms of those trees which cast their 
shadow into this church. Washington Allston died 
in the month of July, 1843, aged sixty-three, having 
reached, the grand climacteric, that special mile-stone 
on the road of life. It was Saturday night ; the cares 
of the week were over ; the pencil and brush were laid 
in repose ; the great canvas, on which for many years 
he had sought to perpetuate the image of Daniel con- 
fronting the idolatrous soothsayers of Belshazzar, was 
left, with the chalk lines designating the labors to be 
resumed, after the rest of the Sabbath ; the evening 
was passed, in the pleasant converse of family and 
friends ; words of benediction had fallen from his lips 
upon a beloved relative ; all had retired for the night, 
leaving him alone, in health, to receive serenely the 
visitation of Death, sudden, but not unprepared for. 
Happy lot ! thus to be borne away, with blessings on 
the lips ; not through the long valley of disease, amidst 
the sharpness of pain, and the darkness that beclouds 
the slowly departing spirit; but straight upward, through 
realms of light, swiftly, yet gently, as on the wings of 
a dove ! 

The early shades of evening had begun to prevail, 
before the body of the Artist reached its last resting- 
place ; and the solemn service of the church was read 



164 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURI3T, 

in the open air, by the flickering flame of a torch, — fit 
image of life. In the group of mourners, who bore by 
their presence a last tribute to what was mortal in him 
of whom so much was immortal, stood the Jurist. His 
soul, overflowing with tenderness and appreciation of 
merit of all kinds, was touched by the scene. In vivid 
words, as he slowly left the church-yard, he poured 
forth his admiration and his grief. Never was such an 
Artist mourned by such a Jurist. 

Of Allston may we repeat the words in which Burke 
has commemorated his friend Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
when he says, — " He was the first who added the 
praise of the elegant arts to the other glories of his 
country." * An ingenious English writer, who sees 
Art at once with the eye of taste and humanity, and 
whom I quote with sympathy, if not with entire assent, 
has said, in a recent publication on our Artist, — "It 
seemed to me, that in him America had lost her 
third great man. What Washington was as a states- 
man, Channing as a moralist, that was Allston as an 
Artist." t 

And here again we discern the inseparable link be- 
tween character and works. Allston was a good man, 
with a soul refined by purity, exalted by religion, soft- 
ened by love. In manner, he was simple, yet courfly ; 
quiet, though anxious to please ; kindly alike to all, 
the poor and lowly, not less than to the rich and 
great ; a modest, unpretending. Christian gentleman. 
As he spoke, in that voice of softest utterance, all were 



* Prior's Life of Burke, Vol. II., pp. 1S9, 190. 
t Mrs. .lameson's Memoirs and Essays. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 165 

cliarmed to listen, and the airy-footed hours often 
tripped on far towards the gates of morning, before his 
friends could break from his spell. His character is 
transfigured in his works ; and the Artist is always 
inspired by the man. 

His life was consecrated to Art. He lived to diffuse 
Beauty, as a writer, as a poet, as a painter. As an 
expounder of the principles of his art, he will take a 
place with Leonardo da Vinci, Albert Durer, Joshua 
Reynolds, and Fuseli. His theory of painting, as de- 
veloped in his still unpublished discourses, and in that 
tale of rare beauty, '' Monaldi," is an instructive memo- 
rial of his conscientious studies. In the small group of 
painter-poets — poets by the double title of the pencil 
and the pen — he holds an honored place. He was 
pronounced, by no less a judge than Southey, to be one 
of the first poets of the age. His ode on England and 
America, one of the choicest lyrics in the language, is 
superior to the satirical verse of Salvator Rosa, and 
may claim companionship with the remarkable sonnets 
of Michel Angelo. 

In youth, while yet a pupil of the University, his 
busy fingers found pleasure in drawing ; and there is 
still preserved, in the records of one of our societies, 
a pen-and-ink sketch from his hand. Shortly after 
leaving Cambridge, he repaired to Europe, in the pur- 
suit of art. At Paris were then collected the master- 
pieces of painting and sculpture, the spoils of unholy 
war, robbed from their native galleries and churches, 
to swell the pomp of the imperial capital. There our 
Artist devoted his days to the diligent study of his 
chosen profession, particularly the department of draw- 



ing, so importint to accarate art. Alluding to these 
tifioroagh labors at a later day, he ^d " be woiked 
like a r.". - : - ; "" Perhaps to these mav be referred 
his sing-^ :-^ -:::.: :--^nee in that necessarv, b-: r-f^'rotei 
branch, which is to Art what Gmmmar is t; _ _ > 
Grammar and Design are treated bj Ars'i'.i i^ en i 
leveL 

Taming his back upon Paris and the greatness of 
lie Empire, he directed his steps to Italy, the en- 
chanted ground of literature, of history, and of art, — 
strown with richest memorials of the Pas:. — i-.^i w::h 
scenes memorable in the s" : -^ ' " . _ - :' " . — 
teaching by the pages of ^ - _ - ..-..,.-. — 
vocal wiih the melody of poe*^. — ringing with ihe 
m:- - ".'- St- Cecilia protects, — g". : . j ■ ' ". ' :- 

liv._ _ T and canras, — beneath a 5.-;^ : . 

parity and brightne^, — with the sunsets which Claude 
has painted, — parted by the Apennines, earij ' i : s 

of tie unrecorded Etruscan civilizatLon, — 5 : 

by the snow-capped Alps, and the blue, classic waters 
of the Mediterranean Sea. The delng= -:" —-.-. - '- :'' 
submerged Europe, had here subsided : . _ 

took up his peaceful abode in Eome, ±^ 
of Art. Strange change of : ■""-:' 

surviTing city of Antiquity, " 

that could be wrought by the cunning nand of 5.: - . ; • 
tore, — 

Excndent 2I:. : . 

Credo equideci . -. — 

who has commandec „u ..-^ „ „,. _:. _- ..-: 

jfcrmprudenee, by her church, — now sways it further by 
her ans. PHgrims from afar, where ne." , . 



MS 



TiTi r me \ 



'.mz -WUL UK 



»*?iuk* -^'f 



ZiiL acr 






t vairi -of an W is asyacSs"^ "w^is aa^ aT ^^le ^kssnis 



IGS THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

In considering more particularly his character as an 
Artist, we may regard his attainments in three different 
respects, — drawing, color, and expression or senti- 
ment. It has already been seen that he had devoted 
himself, with uncommon zeal, to drawing. His works 
bear witness to this excellence. There are chalk out- 
lines, sketched on canvas by him, which are clear 
and definite as any thing from the classic touch of 
Flaxman. 

His excellence in color was remarkable. This seem- 
ing mystery, which is a distinguishing characteristic 
of the artists of different schools, periods, and countries, 
is not unlike that of language or style in literature. 
Color is to the painter what words are to the author ; 
and as the writers of one age or place arrive at a pecu- 
liar mastery in the use of language, so the artists of a 
particular period excel in color. It would be difficult 
to account satisfactorily for the rich idiom suddenly 
assumed by our English tongue in the contemporaneous 
prose of Bacon, Hooker, and Jeremy Taylor, and in 
the unapproached variety of Shakspeare. It might be 
as difficult to account for the unequalled tints which 
shone on the canvas of Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, and 
Titian, masters of what is called the Venetian School. 
The ignorance of some inquirers has referred these 
glories to concealed or lost artistic rules in the combina- 
tion of colors ; not thinking that it can be traced only 
to a native talent for color, as there is a native talent 
for language, which was prompted to its display by cir- 
cumstances difficult at this late period fully to determine. 
As it happens that certain persons possess a peculiar, 
unbought felicity and copiousness of words without an 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 1G9 

accurate knowledge of grammar, so there are artists 
excelling in rich and splendid colors, but ignorant of 
drawing ; while, on the other hand, accurate drawing is 
sometimes coldly clad by weak or imperfect colors. 

Allston was largely endowed by nature with the 
talent for color, which was strongly developed under 
the influence of Italian art. While in Rome, he was 
remarked for his excellence in this respect, and re- 
ceived from the German painters there the high title of 
the American Thian. Critics of authority have said 
that the clearness and vigor of his color approached 
that of the elder masters. * It was rich and harmonious 
as the verses of the Fairy Queen, and was uniformly 
soft, mellow, and appropriate, without the garish bril- 
liancy of the modern French School, which, in its 
disturbing influence, calls to mind the saying of the blind 
man, that red resembled the notes of a trumpet. 

He affected no secret or mystery in the preparation 
of colors. What he knew he was ready to impart 
to others ; his genius he could not impart. With the 
simple pigments, accessible to all alike, he reproduced, 
with glowing brush, the tints of nature. All that his 
eyes looked upon furnished a lesson ; the flowers of 
the field, the foliage of the forest, the sunset glories of 
our western horizon, the transparent azure above, the 
blackness of the storm, the soft gray of twilight, the 
haze of an Indian summer, the human countenance 
animate whh thought and emotion, and that finest 
color in nature, according to the ancient Greek, the 
blush of an ingenuous youth. These were the sources 

* Bunsen, Beschreibung der Sladt Rom., Vol. I., p. 583. Article 
oil Modern Art, by K. Plainer. 



ITO THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

from which he drew. With a discerning spirit he mixed 
them on his pallet, and with the eye of sympathy saw 
them again on his canvas. 

But richness of color, superadded to accuracy of 
drawing, cannot secure the highest place in Art ; and 
here I approach a more congenial topic. The expres- 
sion^ the sentiment, the thought, the soul, which inspires 
the work, is not less important than that which animates 
the printed page or beams from the human countenance. 
The mere imitation of inanimate nature belongs to the 
humbler schools of art. The skill of Zeuxis, which 
drew the birds to peck at the grapes on his canvas, 
and the triumph of Parrhasius, who deceived his rival 
by a painted curtain, cannot compare with those pic- 
tures which seem articulate with all the various voices 
of humanity. The highest form of art is that which 
represents man in the highest scenes and under the 
influence of the highest sentiments. And that quality, 
or characteristic, w^iich has been sometimes called ex- 
pression^ is the highest element of art. It is this which 
gives to Raffael, who yields to Titian in color, such an 
eminence among artists. His soul was brimming with 
sympathies, which his cunning hand has kept alive in 
immortal pictures. Here the eye, the mouth, the coun- 
tenance the whole composition has life, — not the 
life of mere imitation, copied from common nature, 
but elevated, softened, purified, idealized. As we 
behold his works, we forget the colors in which they 
are robed ; we gaze, as at living forms ; and seem to 
look behind the painted screen of flesh into living souls. 
A genius, so largely endowed with the Promethean fire, 
has not unaptly been called Divine. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 171 

It was said by Plato, that nothing is beautiful which 
is not morally good. But this is not a faultless propo- 
sition. Beauty is of all kinds and degrees, and it 
exists everywhere beneath the celestial canopy, in us 
and about us. It is that completeness or finish which 
gives pleasure to the mind. It is found in the color of 
a flower and in the accuracy of geometry, — in an act 
of self-sacrifice and in the rhythm of a poem, — in the 
virtues of humanity and in the marvels of the visible 
world, — in the meditations of a solitary soul and in 
the stupendous mechanism of civil society. There is 
beauty where there is neither life nor morality ; but 
the highest form of beauty is in the perfection of the 
moral nature. 

The highest beauty of expression is a grace of 
Christian art. It flows from the sensibilities, affections, 
and struggles which are peculiar to the Christian charac- 
ter. It breathes purity, gentleness, meekness, patience, 
tenderness, peace. It abhors pride, vain-glory, selfish- 
ness, intemperance, lust, war. How celestial is this, 
compared with the grace which dwells in perfection of 
form and color only ! The beauty of ancient art found 
its highest expression in the faultless form of Aphrodite 
rising from the sea,* and in the majestic mien of Juno, 
with snow-white arms, and royal robes, seated on a 
throne of gold ; t not in the soul-lit countenance of her 
who watched the infant in his manger-cradle, and 
throbbed with a mother's ecstasies beneath the agonies 
of the cross. 

Allston was a Christian artist ; and the beauty of 
expression lends an uncommon charm to his colors. 

* Ovid, Tristia, Lib. II., 527. t Martial, Lib. X., Epig. 89. 



172 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

All that he did shows purity, sensibility, refinement, 
delicacy, feeling, rather than force. Flis genius was 
almost feminine. As he advanced in years, this was 
more remarked. His pictures became more and more 
instinct with those higher sentiments which form the 
truest glory of Art. Early in life, he had a fondness 
for pieces representing handitti ; but this taste does not 
appear in his later works. And when asked if he would 
undertake to fill the vacant pannels in the Rotunda of 
the Capitol at Washington, — should Congress deter- 
mine to order such a work, — he is reported to have 
said, in memorable words, " I will paint only one sub- 
ject, and choose my own ; No hattle-piecey * This inci- 
dent, so honorable to the Artist, has been questioned ; but 
whatever may be its correctness, it is certain, that, on 
more than one occasion, he avowed a disinclination to 
paint battle-pieces. I am not aware of the reason that 
he assigned for this disinclination. But it is not going 
too far to suppose, that his refined artistic taste, which 
recognized expression as the highest beauty of art, and 
found in the teachings and example of Christ the 
highest form of beauty, unconsciously judged the char- 
acter of the picture. Even the ancient Greek epigram, f 
describing the Philoctetes of Parrhasius, an image of 
hopeless wretchedness and consuming grief, rises to 
a like sentiment of Christianity and humanity, when it 
says, with mild rebuke, — 

We blame thee, painter, though thy skill commend ; 
'Twas time his sufferings with himself should end. 

* Dunlap's History of Art, Vol. II., p. 188, Mrs. Jameson's 
Memoirs and Essays, 
t Anihol. Lib. IV. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 173 

In another tone, and with a cold indifference to human 
suffering, Lucretius says,* in often quoted verse, that 
it is pleasant, when removed beyond the reach of dan- 
ger, to behold the shock of contending armies : — 

Suave etiam belli cerlamina magna tueri. 

It will not be disguised that, in similar heathen spirit, it 
might be pleasant to look upon a battle-piece in art. 
But, even admitting the calamitous necessity of War, 
it can never be with pleasure — it cannot be without 
sadness unspeakable — that the Christian soul surveys 
its fiendish encounters. And the artist of purest aims, 
sensitive to these emotions, naturally withdraws from 
its fields of blood, confessing that no scene of human 
strife can find a place in the highest art, — that man, 
created in the image of God, should never be pictured 
degrading, profaning, violating that sacred image. 

Were this sentiment general in literature, as well as 
art, war would be shorn of its false glory. Let the 
poet, the historian, the orator, join with the Artist in 
saying. No battle-piece. Let them cease to dwell, 
except with pain and reprobation, upon those dismal 
exhibitions of human passion, in which the lives of 
friends are devoted to procure the death of enemies. 
Let no Christian pen, let no Christian tongue, let no 
Christian pencil, dignify, by praise or picture, scenes 
from which God averts his eye. It is true, man has 
slain his fellow-man; armies have rushed in deadly 
shock against armies ; the blood of brothers has been 
spilled. These are incidents which history must enter 
sorrowfully, tearfully, in her faithful record ; but let 

* Lib. II. 5. 



174 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

not this generous Muse, by warm descriptions and 
attractive colors, fatally perpetuate the passions from 
which they sprung or the griefs which they caused. 
Let her dwell, with eulogy and pride, on all that is 
noble, lovely, beneficent, Christ-like in character. Let 
this be preserved by the votive canvas and marble 
also. But No batth-pieces ! 

In the progress of moral truth, the animal passions, 
which degrade our nature, are, by degrees, checked 
and subdued. The license of lust, and the brutality 
of intemperance, which mark the periods of a civiliza- 
tion inferior to our own, are at last driven from public 
displays. Art faithfully reflects the character of the 
age, and libertinism and intemperance now no longer 
intrude their obscene faces in any of its pictures. The 
time is at hand when religion, humanity, and taste will 
all concur in likewise rejecting any representation of 
human strife. Lais and Phrjme have fled ; Bacchus 
and Silenus have been driven reeling from the scene. 
Mars will soon follow, howling, as with the wound 
received from the Grecian spear, in the field before 
Troy. The Hall of Battles, at Versailles, in which 
Louis Philippe, the inconsistent conservator of peace, 
has arrayed, on acres of canvas, the bloody contests 
which disfigure the long history of France, will be shut, 
with mortification and shame, by a generation that shall 
appreciate the true glory of the kingdom. 

In the grand mission of teaching to nations and to 
individuals wherein is true greatness. Art has a noble 
ofiice to perform. If she be not a herald, she is at 
least a handmaid, of Truth. Her lessons may not 
train the intellect, but they cannot fail to touch the 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 175 

heart. Who can measure the blessed influence of an 
image of beauty, affection, and truth ? The Christus 
Consolator of Schetfer, without a word, wins the soul 
to the Christian graces. Such a work awakens a per- 
manent homage, at once to the artist and to the divine 
spirit in which it has its birth, while it takes its place 
with things that can never die. Only pictures like 
this possess immortal charms. The productions, which 
spring from the lower passions of men, must fade and 
be forgotten, even as the perishing gaudy flowers of 
earth; while those inspired by the heavenly sentiments, 
by benevolence, justice, religion, shall live in perennial, 
amaranthine bloom. 

Allston loved excellence for its own sake. He 
looked down upon the common strife for worldly con- 
sideration. With impressive beauty of truth and ex- 
pression, he said, that " Fame is the eternal shadow of 
excellence, from which it can never be separated." 
Here is revealed a volume, prompting to noble thought 
and action, not for the sake of glory, but to advance 
ourselves in knowlege, in virtue, in excellence of all 
kinds. Our Artist has here given renewed utterance 
to that sentiment which is the highest grace in the life 
of the great magistrate. Lord Mansfield, when, con- 
fessing the attractions of " popularity," he said it was 
that which followed, not that which was followed after. 

As we contemplate the life and works of Allston, we 
are inexpressibly grateful that he lived. His example 
is one of our precious possessions. And yet, while we 
rejoice that he has done much, we seem to hear a whis- 
per that he might have done more. His productions 
suggest a higher genius than they fully display ; and 



176 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST. 

we are sometimes disposed to praise the master rather 
than his works. Like a beloved character in English 
literature, Sir James Mackintosh, he suddenly closed a 
career of beautiful but fragmentary labors, leaving 
much undone which all had hoped he would do. The 
£rreat painting, which had haunted so many years of his 
life, and which his friends and country awaited with 
anxious interest, remained unfinished at last. His Vir- 
gilian sensibility and modesty would doubtless have 
ordered its destruction, had death arrested him less 
suddenly. Titian died, leaving, like Allston, an im- 
portant picture, on which his hand had been busy down 
to the time of his death, still incomplete. A pious and 
distinguished pupil, the younger Palma, took up the 
labor of his master, and, on completing it, placed it in 
the church for which it was destined, with this inscrip- 
tion : — " That which Titian left unfinished Palma 
reverently completed, and dedicated the work to God." 
Where is the Palma who can complete what our Titian 
has left unfinished ? 

Let us now reverently approach the grave of the 
brother whom, in order of time, we were called to 
mourn first. William Ellery Ciianning, the Phi- 
lanthropist, died in the month of October, 184*2, 
aged sixty-two. It is by an easy transition that we 
pass from Allston to Channing. They were friends 
and connections. The monumental stone which marks 
the last resting-place of the Philanthropist was designed 
by the Artist. In physical organization they were not 
unlike, each possessing a fineness of fibre which hardly 
belongs to the Anglo-Saxon stock. In both we ob- 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 177 

serve similar sensibility, delicacy, refinement, and truth, 
illumined by highest aims ; and the coloring of Allston 
finds a parallel in the Venetian richness of the style of 
Channing. 

I do not speak of him as the Divine, although his 
labors might well have earned that title also. It is 
probable that no single mind, in our age, has exerted a 
greater influence over theological opinions. But I pass 
these by, without presuming to indicate their character. 
It were far better, on this occasion, to dwell on those 
Christian labors, which should not fail to find favor, alike 
in all churches, whether at Rome, Geneva, Canterbury, 
or Boston. 

His beneficent influence has been widely felt and 
acknowledged. His words have been heard and read 
by thousands, in all conditions of life, and in various 
lands, whose hearts have been touched with gratitude 
towards the meek and eloquent upholder of divine 
truth. An American traveller, at a small village on 
one of the terraces of the Alps, in the Austrian Tyrol, 
encountered a German, who, hearing that his companion 
was from Boston, inquired earnestly after Channing, — 
saying, that the difficulty of learning the English lan- 
guage had been adequately repaid by the delight of his 
writings. A distinguished stranger, when about to visit 
this country, was told by a relative not less lovely in 
character than exalted in condition, that she envied 
him his journey, '• for two objects that he would not fail 
to see, — Niagara and Channing." We have already 
observed, that a critic of art has placed him, in a grand 
American triumvirate, with Allston and Washington. 
More frequently, — and 1 mention this simply as a 

VOL. I. 12 



178 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

fact, — he has been associated with Washington and 
Franldin ; but, unUke Washington, he had no ensigns 
of command ; unlike Franklin, he was never elevated 
to the pinnacle of foreign office. It w^ould be difficult to 
say that since them any American has exerted greater, 
if equal, sway over his fellow-men. And yet, if it be 
asked what single important measure he has carried to 
a successful close, 1 could not answer. It is on char- 
acter that he has wrought and is still producing incal- 
culable changes. Multitudes, on whose souls neither his 
spoken or written word has ever fallen, now feel its 
blessed influence. The whole country and age feel it. 
I have called him the Philanthropist, the lover of 
man, — the title of highest honor on earth. "I J^ake 
goodness in this sense," says Lord Bacon, in his Es- 
says, " the affecting of the weal of men, which is what 

the Grecians call Philanthropeia This of all 

virtues and dignities of the mind is the greatest, being 
the character of the Deity ; and without it man is a 
busy, mischievous, wretched thing, no better than a 
kind of vermin." Lord Bacon was right. Confessing 
the attractions of Scholarship, awed by the majesty of 
the Law, fascinated by the beauty of Art, our souls 
bend with involuntary reverence before the angelic 
nature that seeks the good of his fellow-man. Through 
him God speaks. On him has descended in especial 
measure the divine spirit. God is Love ; and man, 
in diffusive comprehensive benevolence, most nearly 
resembles Him. In heaven, we are told, the first place 
or degree is given to the angels of love, who are 
termed Seraphim ; the second to the angels of light, 
who are termed Cherubim. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 179 

It must be confessed with sorrow, that the time 
has not yet come, when even his exalted labors of 
benevolence can find equal acceptance with all men. 
And now, as I undertake to speak of them, in this 
presence, I seem to tread on half-buried cinders. I shall 
tread fearlessly ; trusting to be loyal to the occasion, 
to my subject, and to myself In the language of my 
own profession, 1 shall not travel out of the record ; 
but I trust to be true to the record. It is fit that his 
name should be affectionately commemorated here. 
He was one of us. He was a son of the University, 
and for many years connected with hs government as 
a teacher, and as a Fellow of the Corporation. To 
him, more, perhaps, than to any other person, is she 
indebted for her most distinctive opinions. His fame 
is indissolubly connected with hers ; — 

And when ihy ruins shall disclaim 
To be the treasure of his name, 
His name, that cannot fade, shall be 
An everlasting monument to thee. * 

I have called him the Philanthropist ; he might also 
be called the Moralist, for he was the expounder of 
human duties ; but his exposition of duties was no com- 
mon service in the cause of humanity. His morality, 
etherealized and sublimed by Christian love, fortified 
and confirmed by Christian righteousness, was applied 
with unhesitating frankness to the people and afiairs of 
his own country and age. He saw full well, that it 
were vain to declare, in general terms, the blessings of 
right and the misery of wrong, unless the special 

* Ben Jonson's iuscriplion for the " pious marble " in honor of 
Drayton. 



180 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

t 

wrong was pointed out which ought to be eradicated. 
A general morality is apt to be inefficient. Tamerlane 
and Napoleon might both join in general praise of 
peace and condemnation of war, and entitle themselves 
to be enrolled, with Alexander of Russia, as the mem- 
bers of a Peace Society. And many people satisfy 
their consciences by the utterance of general truth, 
warmed, perhaps, by rhetorical effort, without venturing 
or caring to apply it practically in life. This was not 
the case with our Philanthropist. He sought to bring 
his morality to bear distinctly and pointedly upon the 
world. Nor was he disturbed by another suggestion, 
which the moralist often encounters, that his views 
were sound in theory, but not practical. He well knew 
that what is unsound in theory must be vicious in prac- 
tice. He did not hesitate, therefore, to fasten upon any 
wrong he discerned, and attach to it a mark, which, 
like that of Cain, can never be wiped from its forehead. 
His Philanthropy was Morality in action. 

As a Moralist, he knew that the highest happiness 
could be reached only by following the Right ; and as 
a lover of man, he sought on all occasions to inculcate 
this supreme duty. He strove to impress upon states 
and nations the important truth, that they were amena- 
ble to the same moral law as individuals. This propo- 
sition, if universally recognized, would open the gates 
of a new civilization. From its denial, or its vague and 
imperfect acceptance, come national sins. The princi- 
ples of morality, which first possess the individual, 
slowly pervade the body politic ; and we are often told, 
in extenuation of war and conquest, that the state and 
the individual are governed by separate laws of right, — 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 181 







that the state may do what an individual may not do. 
In combating this pernicious fallacy,, Channing did 
important service to the state. He helped to bring 
government within the circle of Christian duties, and 
instructed the statesman that there is one comprehen- 
sive rule of Hight, binding alike on public and private 
conscience. This truth cannot be too often proclaimed. 
The pulpit, the press, the school, the college, should 
render it familiar to the ear, and pour it into the soul. 
Beneficent nature joins with the moralist in declaring 
the universality of God's laws ; the flowers of the field, 
the rays of the sun, the morning and evening dews, the 
descending showers, the waves of the sea, the breezes 
that fan our cheeks and bear rich argosies from shore 
to shore, the careering storm, all that is on this earth, — 
nay, more, the system of which this earth is a part, 
and the infinitude of the Universe, in which our system 
dwindles to a grain of sand, all declare one prevailing 
law, knowing no distinction of persons, of numbers, of 
mass, of size. 

While Channing commended this truth, he recog- 
nized with especial fervor the rights of men. He saw 
in our institutions, as established in 1776, the grand 
animating idea of Human Rights, distinguishing us 
from other countries. It was this idea, which, first 
appearing at our nativity as a nation, shone on the path 
of our fathers, as the unaccustomed star in the west, 
which twinkled over Bethlehem. 

Kindred to the idea of Human Rights was that other, 
which appears so often in his writings as to seem to 
inspire his whole philanthropy, the importance of the 
Individual Man. No human soul was so abject in con- 



/ 



182 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

dition as not to find sympathy and reverence from him. 
He confessed his brotherhood with all God's children, 
although separated from them by rivers, mountains, 
and seas; although a torrid sun had left upon them an 
unchangeable Ethiopian skin. Filled by this thought, 
he sought in all that he did to promote their elevation 
and happiness. He yearned to do good, to be a spring 
of life and lijrht to his fellow-men. " I see nothing 
worth living for," he said, " but the divine virtue which 
endures and surrenders all things for truth, duty, and 
mankind." In this spirit, so long as he lived, he was 
ever, through good report and evil report, the champion 
of Humanity. 

In the cause of education and of temperance he was 
an earnest laborer. He saw how essential was knowl- 
edge to a people who governed themselves, — that 
without it the right of voting would be a dangerous 
privilege, and that with it the state would be elevated, 
and the means of happiness and power infinitely diffused. 
Plis vivid imagination saw the blight of intemperance, 
and exposed it in glowing colors. In these causes he 
was sustained by the kindly sympathy of those among 
whom he lived. 

But there were two other causes in which his soul, 
more than in any other, was engaged, particularly at 
the close of his life, and with which his name will be 
inseparably associated, — I mean the efforts for the 
abolition of those two mighty wrongs. Slavery and War. 
Fain would I pass these by, on this occasion ; but not 
to speak of them would be to present a portrait from 
which the most distinctive features had been carefully 
removed. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 1S3 

And, first, as to Slavery. To this his attention was 
particularly drawn by his residence, early in life, in 
Virginia, and, at a later day, for a season, in one of the 
West India Islands. His soul was moved by its injus- 
tice and inhumanity. He saw in it an infraction of 
God's great law of Right and of Love, and of the 
Christian precept, " Whatsoever ye would that men 
should do to you, do ye even so to them." He regard- 
ed it as contrary to the law of nature ; and here the 
Philanthropist unconsciously adopted the conclusions of 
the Supreme Court of the United States, speaking by 
the mouth of Mr. Chief Justice Marshall,* and of the 
Supreme Court of Massachusetts, at a later day, speak- 
ing by the mouth of Mr. Chief Justice Shaw. A 
solemn decision, which is now a part of the jurispru- 
dence of this Commonwealth, has declared that '' Sla- 
very is contrary to natural right, to the principles of 
justice, humanity and sound policy." f 

With these convictions, his duty as a Moralist and 
a Philanthropist did not admit of question. He saw 
before him a giant wrong. Almost alone he went 
forth to the contest. On his return from the West 
Indies, he first declared his views from the pulpit. At 
a later day, he published a book entitled Slavery, the 
most extensive treatise on any subject from his pen. 
Other publications followed, down to the close of his 
life, among which was a prophetic letter, addressed to 
Henry Clay, against the annexation of Texas, on the 
ground that it would entail upon the country war with 
Mexico, and would extend and fortify slavery. It is 

* The Antelope, 10 Wheatoii's Rep. 211. 
t Commonwealth v. Aves, 18 Pick. 211. 



184 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

important to mention that this letter, before its publica- 
tion, was read to his classmate Story, who listened 
to it with admiration and assent; so that the Jurist 
and the Philanthropist here join in upholding benign 
truth. 

In his defence of the liberty of the African race, 
he always invoked the great considerations of justice 
and humanity. The argument of economy, which is 
deemed by some minds the only argument pertinent to 
the subject, never presented itself to him. The ques- 
tion of profit and loss was absorbed in that of right and 
wrong. His maxim was, " Any thing but slavery ; 
poverty sooner than slavery." But while he exhibited 
this institution, in the blackest colors of reprobation, 
as unhuman, unjust, unchristian, unworthy of an age of 
light and of a republic professing freedom, his gentle 
soul found no word of harshness for those whom birth, 
education, and custom have bred in its support. He 
was implacable towards wrong ; but used soft words 
towards wrong-doers. He looked forward to the day 
when they too, encompassed by a moral blockade^ invis- 
ible to the eye, but more potent than navies, and under 
the influence of increasing Christian light, diffused 
from all the nations, shall with righteous magnanimity 
acknowledge the wrong, and set their captives ^vee. 

At the close of his life, he urged with peculiar 
clearness and force the duty, — it was of duties that 
he spoke, — of the Northern States to free themselves 
from all support of slaveiy. To this conclusion he was 
driven irresistibly by the ethical principle, that what is 
wrong for an individual is wrong for a state. No 
son of the Pilgrims would hold a fellow-man in bond- 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 185 

age. Conscience forbids it. No son of the Pilgrims 
can help, through his government, to hold a fellow-man 
in bondage. Conscience equally forbids it. We have 
among us to-day a brother who, reducing to practice 
the teachings of Channing and the suggestions of his 
own soul, has liberated the slaves which have fallen to 
him by inheritance. This act finds a response of grati- 
tude and admiration in all our hearts. In asking the 
Free States to disconnect themselves from all support 
of slavery, Channing wished them to do, as States, 
what Palfrey has done as a man. At the same time 
he dwelt with affectionate care upon the Union. He 
sought to reform, not to destroy ; to eradicate, not to 
overturn ; and he cherished the Union as the mother of 
peace, plenteousness, and joy. 

Such were some of his labors in behalf of human 
liberty. As the mind dwells upon them, it instinctively 
recalls the parallel exertions of John Milton. He, too, 
was a defender of liberty. His Defence of the People 
of England drew to him, living, a wider homage than 
his sublime epic. But Channing's labors were of a 
higher order, more instinct with Christian love, more 
truly worthy of renown. Milton's Defensio pro populo 
Anglicano was in behalf of the political freedom of 
the English people, supposed at that time to number 
about four and a half millions. It was written after the 
" bawble " of royalty had been removed, and in the 
confidence that his cause was triumphantly established, 
beneath the protecting genius of Cromwell. Channing's 
Defensio pro populo Africano was in behalf of the 
personal freedom of three millions of his fellow-men 
held in dismal, abject bondage, none, of whom knew 



186 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

that his eloquent pen was pleadhig their cause. The 
labors of Milton caused his blindness ; those of Chan- 
ning exposed him to the shafts of obloquy and calumny. 
How truly might the Philanthropist have exclaimed, in 
the exalted words of the Sonnet to Cyriac Skinner, — 

What supports me, dost thou ask ? 
The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied 
In liherty^s defence, my noble task, 
Of which all Europe rings ^ from side to side. 

The same spirit of humanity and justice, which ani- 
mated him in defence of liberty, inspired also his ex- 
ertions for the abolition of the barbarous custom or 
Institution of War. When I call war aninstitution, 
I mean the legalized, technical war, sanctioned, ex- 
plained and defined by the Law of Nations, as a mode 
of determining questions of right. I mean war, the 
arbitrator, the umpire of right, the Ordeal by Battle, 
deliberately continued in this age of Christianity and 
civilization, as the means of justice between nations. 
Slavery is an institution sustained by private municipal 
law. War is an institution sustained by the public 
Law of Nations. Both are relics of the early ages, 
and have their root in violence and wrong. 

And here the principle, already considered, that 
nations and individuals are bound by one and the same 
rule of right, applies with unmistakeable force. Our 
civilization brands the Trial by Battle, by which justice 
in the early ages was determined between individuals, 
as monstrous and impious ; and it refuses to recognize 
any Glory in the successful combatant. Christianity 
turns from these scenes of strife, as abhorrent to her 
highest injunctions. And is it right for nations to con- 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 187 

tinue a usage, defined and established by a code of 
laws, which is monstrous and impious in individuals? 
The conscience answers, No. 

It will be perceived that this view of the character 
of war leaves undisturbed that sublime question of Chris- 
tian ethics, whether the asserted right of self-defence is 
consistent with the example and the teachings of 
Christ. Channing thought itwas. It is sufficient that 
war, when regarded as an institution, sanctioned by 
the law of nations as a judicial combat, raises no such 
question, involves no such right. When, in our age, 
two nations, parties to the existing international law, 
after mutual preparations, continued perhaps through 
many years, appeal to war and invoke the God of bat- 
tles, they voluntarily adopt this unchristian umpirage 
of right ; nor can either side strongly plead the over- 
ruling necessity, on which alone the right of self- 
defence is founded. They are controlled at every step 
by the Laws of War. But self-defence is independent 
of law ; it knows no law ; it springs from the tempestu- 
ous urgency of the moment, which brooks neither cir- 
cumscription nor delay. Define it; give it laws; cir- 
cumscribe it by a code ; invest it with form ; refine it by 
punctilio; and it becomes the Duel. And modern war, 
with its innumerable rules, regulations, limitations and 
refinements, is the Duel of Nations. 

But these nations are communities of Christian 
brothers. War is, therefore, a duel between brothers. 
In this light, its impiety finds apt illustration in the 
Past. Far away in the early period of time, where 
the uncertain hues of Poetry blend with the serener 
light of History, our eyes discern the fatal contest be- 



188 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

tween those two brothers, Eteocles and Polynices No 
scene fills the mind with deeper aversion ; we do not 
inquire which of them was right. The soul says, in 
bitterness and sorrow, both were wrongs and refuses to 
discriminate between their degrees of guilt. Hereafter 
a just and enlightened public opinion, regarding the 
feuds and wars of mankind, shall condemn both sides 
as wrong, shall deem all wars as fratricidal, and shall 
see in every battle-field a scene from which to avert 
the countenance, as from that dismal duel beneath the 
walls of Grecian Thebes. 

To hasten this condition of the public mind, our Phi- 
lanthropist beneficently labored. '* Follow my white 
plume," said the chivalrous monarch of France, as he 
plunged into the thickest of the vulgar fight. " Follow 
the Right," more resplendent than plume or oriflamme, 
was the watchword of Channing. With a soul that 
kindled at the recital of every act of magnanimous 
virtue, of every deed of self-sacrifice in a righteous 
cause, his clear Christian judgment saw the mockery 
of what is called military glory, whether in ancient 
thunderbolts of war, or in the career of modern con- 
quest. He saw that the fairest flowers cannot bloom in 
a soil moistened by human blood. He saw that to over- 
come evil by ballets and bayonets, was less great and 
glorious than to overcome it by good. He saw that 
the courage of the camp was inferior to the Christian 
fortitude of patience, resignation, and forgiveness of 
evil, — as the spirit which scourged and crucified the 
Saviour was less divine than that which murmured, 
" Father, forgive them, for they know not what they 
do." 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 1S9 

With fearless pen he arraigned that giant criminal, 
Napoleon Bonaparte. Witnesses came from all his 
fields of blood; and the Pyramids of Egypt, the coast 
of Palestine, the plains of Italy, the snows of Russia, 
the fields of Austria, Prussia, Spain, of all Europe, sent 
forth their uncoffined hosts to bear testimony against 
the glory of that selfish chief. Never before, in the 
name of humanity and freedom, was grand offender 
arraigned by such a voice. The sentence of degrada- 
tion which Channing has passed, confirmed as it will be 
by coming generations, shall darken the name of the 
warrior more than any defeat of his arms or compelled 
abdication of his power. 

By these labors Channing has enrolled himself among 
the benefactors of the world. He has helped the com- 
ing of that glad day, which Literature, with gener- 
ous speech. Commerce, with white-winged ships, and 
Science, with fiery engines of speed and magical net- 
work of human thought, are all hastening, when the 
inimical distinctions of country shall disappear, and 
the swollen nationalities of the earth, no longer vexed 
by the passions of mankind, shall subside to one broad 
level of Humanity, " illimitable and without bound;" 
as the tempestuous mountain waves, w^hen the warfare 
of the storm is lulled, spread into an undisturbed ex- 
panse, wherein are mirrored the sun and stars and all 
the imagery of heaven. 

These causes, Channing upheld and commended with 
rare eloquence, both of tongue and pen. Though 
abounding in beauties of thought and expression, he 
may be properly judged less by single passages, sen- 
tences, or phrases, than by the continuous and harmo- 



190 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

nious treatment of his subject. And yet everywhere 
the same sph'it is discerned. His style was not formal 
or architectural in its shape or proportions ; but natural 
and fluent, like a river. Other writers seem to con- 
struct, to build their thoughts ; but his are an unbroken, 
rolling stream. If we should seek a parallel for him 
as a writer, we must turn our backs upon England, and 
repair with our Jurist to France. Meditating on the 
high thoughts of Pascal, the persuasive sweetness of 
Fenelon, the constant and comprehensive benevolence 
of Castel St. Pierre, we may be reminded of Channing. 
With few of the physical attributes which belong 
to the orator, he w^as an orator of surpassing grace. 
His soul tabernacled in a body that was little more 
than a filament of clay. He was small in stature ; but 
when he spoke, his person seemed to dilate with the 
majesty of his thoughts ; as the Hercules of Lysippus, 
a marvel of ancient art, though not more than a foot in 
height, revived in the mind the superhuman strength 
which overcame the Nemean lion : — 

Deus ille, Deus ; seseque videndiim 
Indulsit, Lysippe, X\h\, parvusque videri 
Sentirique ins'ens.* 

His voice was soft and musical, not loud or full in its 
tones ; and yet, like conscience, it made itself heard 
in the inmost chambers of tha soul. His eloquence 
was that of gentleness and persuasion, reasoning for 
religion, humanity, and justice. He did not thunder or 
lighten. The rude elemental forces furnish no proper 
image of his power. Like sunshine, his words de- 
scended upon the souls of his hearers, and under their 

* Suuius, Silv., Lib. IV., Eclog. 6. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 191 

genial influence the hard in heart were softened, while 
the closely hugged mantle of prejudice and error was 
allowed to fall to the earth. 

His eloquence had not the character and fashion of 
forensic efforts or parliamentary debates. It ascended 
above these, into an atmosphere as yet unattempted by 
the applauded orators of the world. Whenever he 
spoke or wrote, it was with the loftiest aims ; not for 
display ; not to advance himself; not for any selfish 
purpose ; not in human strife ; not in any question 
of pecuniary advantage ; but in the service of religion 
and benevolence, to promote the love of God and 
man. In these exalted themes are untried founts of 
truest eloquence. Eloquence has been called action ; 
but it is not this alone ; it is action, action^ action^ in 
noble, godlike causes, for the good of all. It cannot 
be displayed, in purest perfection, in a personal pursuit 
of dishonest guardians, or a selfish strife for a crown ; 
not in the defence of a murderer, or in invectives 
hurled at a conspirator. I would not overstep the 
proper modesty of this discussion, nor would I disparage 
the genius of the great masters of the art ; but all 
must join in admitting that no rhetorical skill or oratori- 
cal power can elevate these lower earthly things to the 
natural heights, on which Channing stood, when he 
pleaded for Freedom and Peace. 

Such was our Philanthropist. As he advanced in 
life, his enthusiasm seemed to brighten ; his soul put 
forth constant blossoms of hope ; his mind opened to new 
truths. Age brings experience ; but, except in a few 
constitutions of rare felicity, it renders the mind indif- 
ferent to what is new, particularly in moral truth. The 



192 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

last months of his life were passed amid the heights of 
Berkshire, with a people to whom may be applied what 
Bentivoglio said of Switzerland, — " Their mountains 
become them, and they become their mountains." To 
them he volunteered, on the 1st of August, 1842, an 
address, in commemoration of that great moral vic- 
tory, the peaceful emancipation of eight hundred thou- 
sdnd slaves in the West Indies by the British govern- 
ment. These were the last public words from his lips. 
His final benediction, ere he was yet translated, was on 
the slave. His spirit, as it took flight, seemed to say, 
nay, it still says, Remember the Slave. 

Thus have I attempted, humbly and affectionately, 
to bring before you the images of our departed brothers, 
while I dwelt on the great causes in which their lives 
were made manifest. Servants of Knowledge, of Jus- 
tice, of Beauty, of Love, they have ascended to the 
great Source of Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, Love. 
Each of our brothers is removed ; but though dead, 
yet speaketh, informing our understandings, strength- 
ening our sense of justice, refining our tastes, enlarging 
our sympathies. The body dies ; but the page of the 
Scholar, the interpretation of the Jurist, the creation 
of the Artist, the beneficence of the Philanthropist, 
cannot die. 

I have dwelt upon their lives and characters, less in 
grief for what we have lost, than in gratitude for what 
we so long possessed, and still retain, in their precious 
example. In proud recollection of her departed chil- 
dren. Alma Mater might well exclaim, in those touching 
words of parental grief, that she would not give her 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 193 

dead sons for any living sons in Christendom. Picker- 
ing, Story, Allston, Channing ! A grand Quaternion ! 
Each, in his peculiar sphere, was foremost in his coun- 
try. Each might have said, what the modesty of 
Demosthenes did not forbid him to boast, that, through 
him, his country had been crowned abroad. Their 
labors were wide as the Commonwealth of Letters, 
Laws, Art, Humanity, and have found acceptance 
wherever these have dominion. 

Their lives, which overflow with instruction, teach 
one persuasive lesson, which speaks alike to all of 
every calling and pursuit, — not to live for ourselves 
alone. They lived for Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, 
Humanity. Withdrawing from the strifes of the world, 
from the allurements of office, and the rage for gain, 
they consecrated themselves to the pursuit of excel- 
lence, and each, in his own vocation, to beneficent 
labor. They were all philanthropists ; for the labors of 
all promoted the welfare and happiness of mankind. 

In the contemplation of their generous, unselfish 
lives, we feel the insignificance of office and wealth, 
which men so hotly pursue. What is office .? and what 
is wealth r They are the expressions and representa- 
tives of what is present and fleeting only, investing 
their possessor, perhaps, with a brief and local regard. 
But let this not be exaggerated ; let it not be con- 
founded with the serene fame which is the reflection of 
important labors in great causes. The street lights, 
within the circle of their nightly scintillation, seem to 
outshine the distant stars, observed of men in all lands 
and times ; but gas-lamps are not to be mistaken for the 
celestial luminaries. They, who live only for wealth, 

VOL. 1. 13 



194 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

and the things of this world, follow shadows, neglect- 
ing the great realities which are eternal on earth and 
in heaven. After the perturbations of life, all its accu- 
mulated possessions must be resigned, except those 
alone which have been devoted to God and mankind. 
What we do for ourselves^ perishes with this mortal 
dust ; what we do for others^ lives in the grateful hearts 
of all who feel or know the benefaction. Worms may 
destroy the body ; but they cannot consume such a 
fame. It is fondly cherished on earth, and never for- 
gotten in heaven. 

The selfish struggles of the crowd, the clamors of a 
false patriotism, the suggestions of a sordid ambition, 
cannot obscure that great commanding duty, which en- 
joins perpetual labor, without distinction of country, 
of color, or of race, for the welfare of the whole Hu- 
man Family. In this mighty Christian cause. Knowl- 
edge, Jurisprudence, Art, Philanthropy, all are blessed 
ministers. More puissant than the Sword, they shall 
lead mankind from the bondage of error into that ser- 
vice which is perfect freedom : 

Has libi erunt artes, pacisque imponcre morern.* 

Our departed brothers join in summoning you to this 
gladsome obedience. Their examples speak for them. 
Go forth into the many mansions of the house of life : 
scholars ! store them with learning ; jurists ! build them 
with justice ; artists ! adorn them whh beauty ; philan- 

* ^neis, VI., 852. — Dry den, translating this passage, introduces 
a duty whicli Virgil omits : — 

The fettered slave set free, 
These are imperial arts, and worthy thee! 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 195 

thmpists! let them resound with love. Be servants of 
truth, each in his vocation ; doers of the word and not 
hearers only. Be sincere, pure in heart, earnest, en- 
thusiastic. A virtuous enthusiasm is always self-forget- 
ful and noble. It is the only inspiration now vouch- 
safed to man. Like Pickering, blend humility with 
learning. Like Story, ascend above the Present, in 
place and time. Like Allston, regard fame only as the 
eternal shadow of excellence. Like Channing, bend in 
adoration before the right. Cultivate alike the wisdom 
of experience and the wisdom of hope. Mindful of the 
Future, do not neglect the Past ; awed by the majesty 
of Antiquity, turn not wdth indifference from the Future. 
True wisdom looks to the ages before us, as well as be- 
hind us. Like the Janus of the Capitol, one front 
thoughtfully regards the Past, rich with experience, 
with memories, with the priceless traditions of virtue ; 
the other is earnestly directed to the All Hail Here- 
after, richer still with its transcendent hopes and unful- 
filled prophecies. 

We stand on the threshold of a new age, which is 
preparing to recognize new influences. The ancient 
divinities of Violence and Wrong are retreating to their 
kindred darkness. The sun of our moral universe is 
entering a new ecliptic, no longer deformed by those 
images of animal rage. Cancer, Taurus, Leo, Sagitta- 
rius, but beaming with mild radiance of those heavenly 
signs, Faith, Hope, and Charity. 

There 's a fount about to stream, 
There 's a light ahout to beam, 
There 's a Avarmth about to glow. 
There 's a flower about to blow ; 



y 

196 THE SCHOLAR, THE JURIST, 

There 's a midnight bJacliness changing 

Into gray ; 
Men of thought, and men of action, 

Clear the ^cay. 

Aid the dawning, tongue and pen ; 
Aid it, hopes of honest men ; 
Aid it, paper ; aid it, type ; 
Aid it, for tlie hour is ripe. 
And our earnest must not slaclccn 

Into play ; 
Men of thought, and men of action, 

Clear the way. 

The age of Chivalry has gone. An age of Humanity 
has come. The Horse, whose importance more than 
human, gave the name to that early period of gallantry 
and war, now yields his foremost place to Man. In 
serving him, in promoting his elevation, in contributing 
to his welfare, in doing him good, there are fields of 
bloodless triumph, nobler far than any in which Bayard 
or Du Gnesclin ever conquered. Here are spaces of 
labor, wide as the world, lofty as heaven. Let me say, 
then, in the benison once bestowed upon the youthful 
knight, — Scholars! jurists! artists! philanthropists! 
heroes of a Christian age, companions of a celestial 
knighthood, " Go forth, be brave, loyal, and success- 
ful ! " 

And may it be our office to-day to light a fresh 
beacon-fire on the venerable walls of Harvard, sacred 
to Truth, to Christ, and the Church,* — to Truth Im- 
mortal, to Christ the Comforter, to the Holy Church 
Universal. Let the flame spread from steeple to stee- 

* The legend on the early seal of Harvard University was Veritas. 
The present legend is Christo et Ecdcsicc. 



THE ARTIST, THE PHILANTHROPIST. 197 

pie, from hill to hill, from island to island, from conti- 
nent to continent, till the long lineage of fires shall 
illumine all the nations of the earth ; animating them 
to the holy contests of Knowledge, Justice, Beauty, 
Love. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 
A LECTURE BEFORE THE BOSTON MERCAN- 
TILE LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, FEBRUARY 17, 
1847. 



PJutato nomine, de to 



Fabula narralur. Horace. 



And thinkest ihou this, O man, that judgest them which do such 
tiling's, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape the judgment of 
God ? Epistle to the Romans, Chap. ii. v. 3. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY 
STATES. 



History has been sometimes called a gallery, where, 
in living forms, are preserved the scenes, the incidents, 
and the characters of the past. It may also be called 
the world's great charnel-house, where are gathered 
coffins, dead men's bones, and all the uncleanness of 
the years that have fled. As we walk among its pic- 
tures, radiant with the inspiration of virtue and of 
freedom, we confess a new impulse to beneficent exer- 
tion. As we grope amidst the unsightly shapes that 
have been left without an epitaph, we may at least 
derive a fresh aversion to all their living representa- 
tives. 

In this mighty gallery, amidst a heavenly light, are 
the images of the benefactors of mankind, — the poets 
who have sung the praise of virtue, the historians who 
have recorded its achievements, and the good men of 
all time, who, by word or deed, have striven for the 
welfare of others. Here are depicted those scenes, 
where the divinity of man has been made manifest in 
trial and danger. Here also are those grand incidents 



202 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBAEY STATES. 

which attended the establishment of the free institutions 
of the world ; — the signing of Magna Charta, with its 
priceless privileges of freedom, by a reluctant monarch ; 
and the signing of the Declaration of Independence, 
the annunciation of the inalienable rights of man, by 
the fathers of our republic. 

On the other hand, in ignominious confusion, far 
down in this dark, dreary charnel-house is tumbled all 
that now remains of the tyrants, the persecutors, the 
selfish men, under whom mankind have groaned. Here 
also, in festering, loathsome decay, are the monstrous 
institutions or customs, which the earth, weary of their 
infamy and injustice, has refused to sustain, — the 
Helotism of Sparta, the Serfdom of Christian Europe, 
the Ordeal by Battle, and Algerine Slavery. 

From this charnel-house let me to-night draw forth 
one of these. It may not be without profit to dwell on 
the ori^in^ the history^ and the characier, of a custom, 
which, after being for a long time a by-word and a hiss- 
ing among the nations, has at last been driven from the 
world. The easy, instinctive, positive reprobation, which 
it cannot fail to receive from all, must necessarily direct 
our judgment of other institutions, yet tolerated in defi- 
ance of justice and humanity. I propose to consider 
the subject of White Slavery in Algiers^ or, perhaps it 
might be more appropriately called. White Slavery in 
the Barhary States. As Algiers was its chief seat, it 
seems to have acquired a current name from that place. 
This I shall not disturb ; though I shall speak of White 
Slavery, or the Slavery of Christians, throughout the 
Barbary States. 

If this subject should fail in interest, it cannot in 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 203 

novelty. I am not aware of any previous attempt to 
combine its scattered materials in a connected essay. 

The territory, now known as the Barbary States, is 
memorable in history. Classical inscriptions, broken 
arches, and ancient tombs — the memorials of various 
ages — continue still to bear interesting witness to the 
revolutions which it has encountered.* Early Greek 
legend made it the home of terror and of happiness. 
Here was the retreat of the Gorgon, with snaky tresses, 
turning all she looked upon into stone ; and here also 
the garden of the Hesperides, with its apples of gold. 
It was the scene of adventure and mythology. Here 
Hercules wrestled with Antseus ; and Atlas sustained, 
with weary shoulders, the overarching sky. Phoenician 
fugitives early transported the spirit of commerce to 
its coasts ; and Carthage, which these wanderers here 
planted, became the mistress of the seas, the explorer 
of distant regions, the rival and the victim of Rome. 
The energy and subtlety of Jugurtha here baffled for a 
while the Roman power, till at last the whole country, 
from Egypt to the Pillars of Hercules, underwent the 
process of " annexation " to the cormorant republic of 
ancient times. Its thriving population and its fertile 
soil rendered it an immense granary. It was filled with 
famous cities, one of which was the refuge and the 
grave of Cato, fleeing from the usurpations of Csesar. At 

* The classical student will be gratified and surprised hy the re- 
mains of antiquity described by Dr. Shaw, English chaplain at 
Algiers in the reign of George the First, in his Travch and Observa- 
tions relating to Several Parts of Barbary and the Levant, published 
in 1738. 



204 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

a later day Christianity was here preached by some of 
her most saintly bishops. The torrent of the Vandals, 
first wasting Italy, next passed over this territory ; and 
the arms of Belisarius here obtained their most signal 
triumphs. The Saracens, with the Koran and the 
sword, potent ministers of conversion, next broke from 
Arabia, as the messengers of a new religion, and, 
pouring along these shores, diffused the faith and doc- 
trines of Mohammed. Their empire was not confined 
even by these expansive limits ; but, under Musa, en- 
tered Spain, and, afterwards at Roncesvalles, in '' dolo- 
rous rout," overthrew the embattled chivalry of the 
Christian world led by Charlemagne. 

The Saracenic power did not long retain its unity or 
importance ; and, as we view this territory, in the dawn 
of modern history, when the countries of Europe are 
appearing in their new nationalities, we discern five 
ditTerent communities or states, — Morocco, Algiers, 
Tunis, Tripoli, and Barca, — the latter of little moment 
and often included in Tripoli, the whole constituting 
what was then, and is still, called the Barbary States. 
This name has sometimes been referred to the Berbers, 
or Berebbers, constituting a part of the inhabitants ; 
but I delight to follow the classic authority of Gibbon, 
who thinks* that the term, first applied by Greek pride 
to all strangers, and finally reserved for those only who 
were savage or hostile, has justly settled, as a local 
denomination, along the northern coast of Africa. The 
Barbary States, then, bear their past character in their 



* Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, Vol. IX. Chap. Ivi. p. 
465. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 205 

They occupy an important space on the earth's sur- 
face ; on the north, washed by the Mediterranean Sea, 
furnishing such opportunities of prompt intercourse 
with Southern Europe, that Cato was able to exhibit in 
the Roman Senate figs which had been freshly plucked 
in the gardens of Carthage ; bounded on the east by 
Egypt, on the west by the Atlantic Ocean, and on the 
south by the vast, indefinite, sandy, flinty wastes of 
Sahara, separating them from Soudan or Negroland. 
In the advantages of position they surpass every other 
part of Africa, — unless, perhaps, we except Egypt, — 
communicating easily with the Christian nations, and 
thus, as it were, touching the very hem and border of 
civilization. 

Climate adds its attractions to this region, which is 
removed from the cold of the north and the burning 
heats of the tropics, while it is enriched with oranges, 
citrons, olives, figs, pomegranates, and luxuriant flowers. 
Its position and character invite a singular and sugges- 
tive comparison. It is placed between the twenty-ninth 
and thirty-eighth degrees of north latitude, occupying 
nearly the same parallels with the Slave States of our 
Union. It extends over nearly the same number of 
degrees of longitude with our Slave States, which seem, 
now alas ! to stretch from the Atlantic Ocean to the 
Rio Grande. It is supposed to embrace about 700,000 
square miles, which cannot be far from the space com- 
prehended by what may be called the Barhary Stales 
of America.* Nor does the comparison end here. 

* Jefferson without recognizing the general parallel, alludes to 
Virginia as fast sinking to be " the Barbary of the Union." Writings, 
Vol. IV,, p. 333. 



206 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

Algiers, for a long time the most obnoxious place in the 
Barbary States of Africa, the chief seat of Christian 
slavery, and once branded by an indignant chronicler 
as " the wall of the barbarian world," is situated near 
the parallel of 38° 80' north lathude, being the line of 
what is termed the Missouri Compromise, marking the 
" wall " of Christian slavery, in our country, west of 
the Mississippi, 

Other less important points of likeness between the 
two territories may be observed. They are each washed, 
to the same extent, by ocean and sea ; w^ith this differ- 
ence, that the two regions are thus exposed on directly 
opposite coasts, — the African Barbary being bounded 
in this way on the North and West, and our American 
Barbary on the South and East. But there are no two 
spaces, on the surface of the globe, of equal extent 
(and an examination of the map will verify what I am 
about to state), which present so many distinctive fea- 
tures of resemblance ; whether we consider the parallels 
of latitude on which they lie, the nature of their boun- 
daries, their productions, their climate, or the " peculiar 
domestic institution " which has sought shelter in both. 

I introduce these comparisons, in order to bring home 
to your minds, as near as possible, the precise position 
and character of the territory which was the seat of the 
evil I am about to describe. It might be worthy of 
inquiry, why Christian slavery, banished at last from 
Europe, banished also from that part of this hemisphere 
which corresponds in latitude to Europe, should have 
intrenched itself, in both hemispheres, between the same 
parallels of latitude ; so that Virginia, Carolina, Missis- 
sippi, and Texas should be the American complement 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 207 

to Morocco, Algiers, Tripoli, and Tunis. Perhaps the 
common peculiarities of climate, breeding indolence, 
lassitude, and selfishness, may account for the insensi- 
bility to the claims of justice and humanity, which have 
characterized both regions. 

The revolting custom of White Slavery in the Bar- 
bary States was, for many years, the shame of modern 
civilization. The nations of Europe made constant 
efforts, continued through successive centuries, to pro- 
cure its abolition^ and also to rescue their subjects from 
its fearful doom. These may be traced in the diver- 
sified pages of history, and in the authentic memoirs of 
the times. Literature also alTords illustrations, which 
must not be neglected. At one period, the French, the 
Italians, and the Spaniards, borrowed the plots of their 
stories mostly from this source.* The adventures of 
Robinson Crusoe make our childhood familiar with one 
of its forms. Among his early trials, he was piratically 
captured by a rover from Sallee, a port of Morocco on 
the Atlantic Ocean, and reduced to slavery. " At this 
surprising change of circumstances," he says, " from a 
merchant to a miserable slave, I was perfectly over- 
whelmed ; and now I looked back upon my father's 
prophetic discourse to me, that I should be miserable 
and have none to relieve me, which I thought was so 
effectually brought to pass, that I could not be worse." 
And Cervantes, in the story of Don Quixote, over 
which so many generations have shaken with laughter, 
turns aside from its genial current to give the narrative 

* Sismondi's Literature of tlie South of Europe, Vol. III., Ch. 
29, p. 402. 



208 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

of a Spanish captive who had escaped from Algiers. 
The author is supposed to have drawn from his own 
experience ; for during five years and a half he endured 
the horrors of Algerine slavery, from which he was 
finally liberated by a ransom of about six hundred dol- 
lars.* This inconsiderable sum of money — less than 
the price of an intelligent African slave in our own 
Southern States — gave to freedom, to his country, and 
to mankind the author of Don Quixote. 

In Cervantes freedom gained a champion, whose 
efforts entitle him to grateful mention, on this threshold 
of our inquiry. Taught in the school of slavery, he 
knew how to commiserate the slave. The unhappy 
condition of his fellow-christians in chains was ever up- 
permost in his mind. He lost no opportunity of arousing 
his countrymen to attempts for their emancipation, and 
for the overthrow of the " peculiar institution " — par- 
don this returning phrase ! — under wliich they groaned. 
He became in Spain what, in our day and country, is 
sometimes called an " Anti-Slavery Agitator," — not by 
public meetings and addresses, but, according to the 
genius of the age, mainly through the instrumentality 
of the theatre. Not from the platform, but from the 
stage, did this liberated slave speak to the world. In a 
drama, entitled. El Trato de Argel^ or Life in Algiers 
— which, though not composed according to the rules 
of art, yet found much favor, probably from its subject 

* The exact amount is left uncertain both by Smollet and Thomas 
Roscoe in their lives of Cervantes. It appears that it was five 
hundred gold crowns of Spain, which, according- to his Spanish biog- 
rapher, Navarrele, is 6770 reals {Vida de Cervantes, p. 371.) The 
real is supposed to be less than ten cents. 



WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARA STATES. 209 

— he pictured, shortly after his return to Spain, the 
manifold humiliations, pains, and torments of slavery. 
This was followed by two others in the same spirit — 
La Gran Sultana Doha CattaJina de Ovicdo, The 
Great Sultana the Lady Cattalina of Ovicdo ; and Los 
Bahos de Argel, The Galleys of Algiers. The last 
act of the latter closes with the statement, calculated to 
enlist the sympathies of an audience, that this play " is 
not drawn from the imagination, but was born far from 
the regions of fiction, in the very heart of truth." Not 
content with this appeal through the theatre, Cervantes, 
with constant zeal, takes up the same theme, in the tale 
of the Captive, in Don Quixote, as we have already 
seen, and also in that of £/ Liberal Amante^ The Lib- 
eral Lover, and in some parts of La Espahola Inglesa, 
The English Spanishwoman. All these may be regard- 
ed, not merely as literary labors, but as charitable en- 
deavors in behalf of human freedom. 

And this same cause enlisted also a prolific contem- 
porary genius, called by Cervantes " that prodigy," 
Lope de Vega, who commended it in a play entitled 
Los Cautivos de Argel, The Captives of Algiers. At 
a later day, Calderon, sometimes called the Shakspeare 
of the Spanish stage, in one of his most remarkable 
dramas. El Principe Constante^ The Constant Prince, 
cast a poet's glance at Christian slavery in Morocco. 
To these works — belonging to what may be called the 
literature of Anti-Slavery, and shedding upon our sub- 
ject a grateful light — must be added a curious and 
learned volume, in Spanish, on the Topography and 
History of Algiers, by Haedo, a father of the Catholic 
Church — Topografia y Historla de Argel por Era 

VOL. 1. 14 



210 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

Haedo — published in 1612; and containing also two 
copious Dialogues — one on Captivity (de la Captiu- 
dad), and the other on the Martyrs of Algiers {de los 
Marhjres de Argel). These Dialogues, besides em- 
bodying authentic sketches of the sufferings in Algiers, 
form a mine of classical and patristic learning on the 
origin and character of slavery, with arguments and 
protestations against its iniquity, vi^hich may be explored 
with profit, even in our day. In view of this gigantic 
evil, particularly in Algiers, and in the hope of arousing 
his countrymen to the generous work of emancipation, 
the good Father exclaims,* in words which will con- 
tinue to thrill the soul, — so long as a single fetter binds 
a single slave, — " Where is charity ? Where is the 
love of God } Where is the zeal for his glory ? Where 
is desire for his service ? Where is human pity and 
the compassion of man for man ? Certainly to redeem 
a captive, to liberate him from wretched slavery, is the 
highest work of charity, of all that can be done in this 
world." 

Not long after the dark experience of Cervantes, 
another person, of another country and language, and 
of a still higher character, St. Vincent de Paul, of 
France, underwent the same cruel lot. Happily for 
the world, he escaped from slavery, to commence at 
home that long career of charity, — nobler than any 
glories of literature — signalized by various Christian 
efforts, against duels, for peace, for the poor, and in 
every field of humanity — by which he is placed among 
the great names of Christendom. Princes and orators 
have lavished panegyrics upon this fugitive slave ; and 

* pp. 140, 141. 



ITS ORIGIN. 211 

the Catholic Church, in homage to his extraordinary 
virtues, has introduced him into the company of saints. 
Nor is he the only illustrious Frenchman, who has felt 
the yoke of slavery. Almost within our own day, Arago, 
the astronomer and philosopher, — devoted republican, 
I may add also, — while engaged, early in life, in some 
of those scientific labors, on the coast of the Mediter- 
ranean, which made the beginning of his fame, fell a 
prey to Algerine slave-dealers. What science and the 
world have gained by his emancipation I need not say. 
Thus Science, Literature, Freedom, Philanthropy, 
the Catholic Church, each and all, confess a debt to the 
liberated Barbary slave. May they, on this occasion, 
as beneficent heralds, commend the story of his wrongs, 
his struggles, and his triumphs ! 

These preliminary remarks properly prepare the way 
for the subject to which I have invited your attention. 
In presenting it, I shall naturally be led to touch upon 
the origin of slavery^ and the principles which lie at its 
foundation, before proceeding to exhibit the efforts for 
its abolition, and their final success in the Barbary 
States. 

I. The word slave, suggesting now so much of human 
abasement, has an origin, which speaks of human gran- 
deur. Its parent term, Slava, signifying glory, in the 
Slavonian dialects, where it first appears, was proudly 
assumed as the national designation of the races in the 
northeastern part of the European continent, who, in 
the vicissitudes of war, were afterwards degraded from 
the condition of conquerors to that of servitude. The 



212 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAKBARY STATES. 

Slavonian bondman, retaining his national name, was 
known as a Slave^ and this term — passing from a race to 
a class — was afterwards apphed, in the languages of 
modern Europe, to all in his unhappy lot, without dis- 
tinction of countr}^ or color.* It would be difficult to 
mention any word, which has played such opposite 
parts in history — now beneath the garb of servitude, 
concealing its early robes of pride. And yet, startling as 
it may seem, this word may properly be received in its 
primitive character, in our own day, by those among us, 
who consider slavery essential to democratic institutions, 
and therefore, a part of the true ghry of the country ! 

Slavery was universally recognized by the nations of 
antiquity. It is said by Pliny, in a bold phrase, that 
the Lacedsemonians " invented slavery." t If this were 
so, the glory of Lycurgus and Leonidas would not 
compensate for such a blot upon their character. It is 
true that they recognized it, and gave it a shape of 
peculiar hardship. But slavery is older than Sparta. 
It appears in the tents of Abraham ; for the three hun- 
dred and eighteen servants born to him were slaves. 
It appears in the story of Joseph, who was sold by his 
brothers to the Midianites for twenty pieces of silver, t 
It appears in the poetry of Homer, who stamps it whh 
a reprobation which can never be forgotten, when he 
says : § 

* Gibbon's Roman Empire, Vol. X., cap. 55, p. 190. 

+ Nat. Hist., Lib. VII. c. 57. 

t Genesis xiv. 14 ; Ibid, xxxvii. 23. By these and other texts of 
the Scriptures, slavery, and even the slave-trade, have been vindica- 
ted. See Bruce's Travels in Africa, Vol. II. p. 319. After quoting 
these texts, the complacent traveller says he " cannot think thai 
purchasing slaves is either cruel or unnatural." 

§ Odyssey, Book XVII. 



ITS ORIGIN. 213 

Jove fixed it certain, that whatever day 
Makes man a slave takes half his worth away. 

In later days it prevailed extensively in Greece, 
whose haughty people deemed themselves justified in 
enslaving all who were strangers to their manners and 
institutions. " The Greek has the right to be the mas- 
ter of the barbarian," was the sentiment of Euripides, 
one of the first of her poets, which was echoed by 
Aristotle, the greatest of her intellects.* And even Plato, 
in his imaginary republic, the Utopia of his beau- 
tiful genius, sanctions slavery. But, notwithstanding 
these high names, we learn from Aristotle himself, that 
there were persons in his day — pestilent Abolitionists 
of ancient Athens — who did not hesitate to maintain 
that liberty was the great law of nature, and to deny 
any difference between the master and the slave, — 
declaring at the same time that slavery was founded 
upon violence, and not upon right, and that the authority 
of the master was unnatural and unjust, t " God sent 
forth all persons free ; nature has made no man a 
slave," was the protest of one of these dissenting Athe- 
nians against this great wrong. I am not in any way 
authorized to speak for any Anti-slavery society, even if 
this were a proper occasion ; but I presume that this 

* Pol. Lib. I. c. I. 

+ Pol. Lib. I. c. 3. In like spirit are the words of the good Las 
Casas, when pleading before Charles the Fifth for the Indian races 
of America. " The Christian religion," he said, " is equal in its op- 
eration and is accommodated to every nation on the globe. It robs no 
one of his freedom, violates none of his inherent rights, on the ground 
that he is a slave by nature, as pretended; and it well becomes your 
Majesty to banish so monstrous an oppression from your kingdoms in 
the beginning of your reign, that the Almighty may make it long and 
glorious." — Prescott's Conquest of Mexico, Vol. I. p. 379, 



214 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

ancient Greek morality substantially enabodies the prin- 
ciples which are maintained at their public meetings, — 
so far, at least, as they relate to slavery. 

It is true, most true, that slavery stands on force and 
not on right. It is one of the hideous results of war, 
or of that barbarism, in which savage war plays a con- 
spicuous part. To the victor, it was supposed, belonged 
the lives of his captives ; and, by consequence, he might 
bind them in perpetual servitude. This principle, which 
has been the foundation of slavery in all ages, is adapted 
only to the rudest conditions of society, and is wholly 
inconsistent with a period of real refinement, humanity, 
and justice. It is sad to confess that it was recognized 
by Greece ; but the civilization of this famed land, 
though brilliant, to the external view, as the immortal 
sculptures of the Parthenon, was, like that stately tem- 
ple, dark and cheerless within. 

Slavery extended, with new rigors, under the military 
dominion of Rome. The spirit of freedom, which ani- 
mated the republic, was of that selfish and intolerant 
character which accumulated privileges upon the 
Roman citizen, while it heeded little the rights of others. 
But, unlike the Greeks, the Romans admitted in theory 
that all men were originally free by the law of nature ; 
and they ascribed the power of masters over slaves, not 
to any alleged diversities in the races of men, but to 
the will of society.* The constant triumphs of their 
arms were signalized by reducing to captivity large 
crowds of the subjugated people. Paulus*Emilius re- 
turned from Macedonia with an uncounted train of 
slaves, composed of persons in every department of 

* Institute I. tit. 2. 



ITS ORIGIN. 215 

life ; and in the camp of Lucullus, in Pontus, slaves 
were sold for four drachmse, or seventy-two cents, a 
head. Terence and Phcedrus, Roman slaves, have, 
however, taught us that genius is not always quenched, 
even by a degrading captivity ; while the writings of 
Cato the Censor, one of the most virtuous slaveholders 
in history, show the hardening influence of a system 
which treats human beings as cattle. " Let the hus- 
bandman," says Cato, " sell his old oxen, his sickly 
cattle, his sickly sheep, his wool, his hides, his old 
wagon, his old implements, his old slave, and his dis- 
eased slave ; and if anything else remains, let him sell 
it. He should he a seller, rather than a buyer ^ * 

The cruelty and inhumanity, which flourished in the 
republic, professing freedom, found a natural home 
under the emperors, — the high-priests of despotism. 
Wealth increased, and with it the multitude of slaves. 
Some masters are said to have owned as many as ten 
thousand, while extravagant prices were often paid, 
according to the fancy or caprice of the purchaser. 
Martial mentions a handsome youth who cost as much 
as four hundred sestertia, or sixteen thousand dollars, t 

It is easy to believe that slavery, which prevailed so 
largely in Greece and Rome, must have existed in 
Africa. Here, indeed, it found a peculiar home. If we 
trace the progress of this unfortunate continent, from 
those distant days of fable when Jupiter 

did not disdain to grace 
The feast of .Ethiopia's blameless race, t 

the merchandise in slaves will be found to have con- 
* Re Rustica, § 2. + Ep. III. 62. t Iliad, Book I. 



216 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

tributed to the abolition of two hateful customs, once 
universal in Africa, — the eating of captives, and their 
sacrifice to idols. Thus, in the march of civilization, 
even the barbarism of slavery is an important stage of 
Human Progress. It is a point in the ascending scale 
from cannibalism. 

In the early periods of modern Europe, slavery was 
a general custom, which yielded only gradually to the 
humane influences of Christianity. It prevailed in all 
the countries of which we have any record. Fair- 
haired Saxon slaves from distant England arrested 
the attention of Pope Gregory in the markets of Rome, 
and were by him hailed as angels. A law of so virtu- 
ous a king as Alfred ranks slaves with horses and 
oxen ; and the chronicles of William of Malmesbury 
show, that, in our mother country, there was once a 
cruel slave-trade in whites. As we listen to this story, 
we shall be grateful again to that civilization which 
renders such outrages more and more impossible. 
•' Directly opposite," he says,* " to the Irish coast, 
there is a seaport called Bristol, the inhabitants of which 
frequently sent into Ireland to sell those people whom 
they had bought up throughout England. They ex- 
posed to sale maidens in a state of pregnancy, with 
whom they made a sort of mock marriage. There 
you might see. with grief, fastened together by ropes, 
whole rows of wretched beings of both sexes, of elegant 
forms, and in the very bloom of youth — a sight suffi- 
cient to excite pity even in barbarians — daily offered 
for sale to the first purchaser. Accursed deed ! infa- 

* Book II. ch. 20, Life of St. Wolston. 



ITS ORIGIN. 217 

mous disorrace! that men, actinop in a manner which 
brutal instinct alone would have forbidden, should sell 
into slavery their relations, nay, even their own off- 
spring." From still another chronicler,* we learn that 
when Ireland, in 1172, was afflicted with public calami- 
ties, the people, but chiefly the clergy^ (prcscipue cleri- 
corum) began to reproach themselves, as well they 
might, believing that these evils were brought upon 
their country, because contrary to the right of Chris- 
tian freedom^ they had bought as slaves the English 
boys brought to them by the merchants ; wherefore, it 
is said, the English slaves were allowed to depart in 
freedom. 

As late as the thirteenth century, the custom pre- 
vailed, on the continent of Europe, to treat all captives, 
taken in war, as slaves. To this, poetry, as well as 
history, bears its testimony. Old Michael Drayton, 
in his story of the Battle of Agincourt, says of the 
French : — 

For knots of cord to every town they send, 
The captived English that they caught to bind ; 
For to perpetual slavery they intend 
Those that alive they on the field should find. 

And Othello, in recounting his perils, exposes this cus- 
tom, when he speaks 

Of being taken by the insolent foe 

And sold to slavery ; of my redemption thence. 

It was also held lawful to enslave any infidel or person 
who did not receive the Christian faith. The early 



* Chronica Hibernioe, or the Annals of Phil. Flatesbury in the 
Cottonian Library, Domiiian A. XVIIl. 10 ; quoted in Stephens on 
West India Slavery, Vol. I. p. 6. ' 



218 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

common law of England doomed heretics to the stake ; 
the Catholic Inquisition did the same ; and the Laws of 
Oleron, the maritime code of the Middle Ages, treated 
them " as dogs," to be attacked and despoiled by all 
true believers. It appears that Philip le Bel of France, 
the son of St. Louis, in 1296, presented his brother 
Charles, Count of Valois, with a Jew^ and that he paid 
Pierre de Chambly three hundred livres for another 
Jew ; as if Jews were at the time chattels, to be given 
away, or bought.* And the statutes of Florence, boast- 
ful of freedom, as late as 1415, expressly allowed re- 
publican citizens to hold slaves who were not of the 
Christian faith ; Qui non sunt CatlioliccB jidei et Chris- 
tian(2.f And still further, the comedies of Moliere, 
VEtourdi, Le Sicilien, UAvare, depicting Italian 
usages not remote from his own day, show that, at 
Naples and Messina, even Christian women continued 
to be sold as slaves. 

This hasty sketch, which brings us down to the 
period when Algiers became a terror to the Christian 
nations, renders it no longer astonishing that the bar- 
barous states of Barbary — a part of Africa, the great 
womb of slavery, — professing Mahommetanism, which 
not only recognizes slavery, but expressly ordains 
" chains and collars " to infidels, | should maintain the 
traffic in slaves, particularly in Christians who denied 
the faith of the Prophet. In the duty of constant war 

* Encyclopedis Methodique (Jurisprudence), Art. Esclavap^e. 

t Biot, De V Abolition de VEsclavagc Ancien en Occident, p. 440 ; 
a work crowned with a gold medal by tlie Institute of France ; but 
•which will be read with some disappointment. 

+ Koran, Chap, 76. 



ITS HISTORY. 219 

upon unbelievers, and in the assertion of a right to the 
services or ransom of their captives, they followed the 
lessons of Christians themselves. 

It is not difficult, then, to account for the origin of 
the cruel custom now under consideration. Its history 
forms our next topic. 

11. The Barbary States, after the decline of the 
Arabian power, were enveloped in darkness, rendered 
more palpable by the increasing light among the Chris- 
tian nations. As we behold them in the fifteenth cen- 
tury, in the twilight of European civilization, they ap- 
pear to be little more than scattered bands of robbers 
and pirates, — " the land-rats and water-rats " of Shy- 
lock, — leading the lives of Ishmaelites. Algiers is de- 
scribed by an early writer as " a den of sturdy thieves, 
formed into a body, by which, after a tumultuary sort, 
they govern;"* and by still another writer, contem- 
porary with the monstrosity which he exposes, as " the 
theatre of all cruelty and sanctuarie of iniquitie, holding 
captive, in miserable servitude, one hundred and twenty 
thousand Christians, almost all subjects of the king of 
Spaine." t Their habit of enslaving prisoners, taken in 
war and in piratical depredations, at last aroused against 
these states the sacred animosities of Christendom. 
Ferdinand, the Catholic, after the conquest of Granada, 
and while the boundless discoveries of Columbus, giv- 
ing to Castile and Aragon a new world, still occupied 
his mind, found time to direct an expedition into Africa, 

* Haileian Miscellany, Vol. V. p. 522, — A Discourse concerning 
Tangiers. 
t Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. 1565. 



220 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

under the military command of that great ecclesiastic, 
Cardinal Ximenes. It is recorded that this valiant sol- 
dier of the church, on effecting the conquest of Oran, 
in 1509, had the inexpressible satisfaction of liberating 
upwards of three hundred Christian slaves.* 

The progress of the Spanish arms induced the gov- 
ernment of Algiers to invoke assistance from abroad. 
At this time, two brothers, Horuc and Hayradin, the 
sons of a potter in the island of Lesbos, had become 
famous as corsairs. In an age when the sword of the 
adventurer often carved a higher fortune than could be 
earned by lawful exertion, they were dreaded for their 
abilities, their hardihood, and their power. To them 
Algiers turned for aid. The corsairs left the sea to 
sway the land ; or rather, with amphibious robbery, 
they took possession of Algiers and Tunis, while they 
continued to prey upon the sea. The name of Barba- 
rossa, by which they are known to Christians, is terri- 
ble in modern history. t 

With pirate ships they infested the seas, and spread 
their ravages along the coasts of Spain and Italy ; until 
Charles the Fifth was aroused to undertake their over- 
throw. The various strength of his broad dominions 
was rallied in this new crusade. " If the enthusiasm," 
says Sismondi, " which armed the Christians at an 
earlier day was nearly extinct, another sentiment, more 
rational and legitimate, now united the vows of Eu- 
rope. The contest was no longer to reconquer the 

* Prescott's History of Ferdinand and Isabella, Vol. III. p. 308 ; 
Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. 813. 

t Robertson's Charles the Fifth, Book V. ; Haedo, Hlstoria de 
Argcl, Epitome de los Reyes, de Argel. 



ITS HISTORY. 221 

tomb of Christ, but to defend the civiHzation, the lib- 
erty, the lives, of Christians." * A stanch body of 
infantry from Germany, the veterans of Spain and 
Italy, the flower of the Spanish nobility, the knights of 
the Order of Malta, with a fleet of near five hundred 
vessels, contributed by Italy, Portugal, and even distant 
Holland, under the command of Andrew Doria, the 
great sea-oflicer of the age, — the whole being under 
the immediate eye of the Emperor himself, with tlie 
countenance and benediction of the Pope, and com- 
posing one of the most complete armaments which 
the world had then seen, — were directed upon Tunis. 
Barbarossa opposed them bravely, but with unequal 
forces. While slowly yielding to attack from without, 
his defeat was hastened by unexpected insurrection 
within. Confined in the citadel were many Christian 
slaves, who, asserting the rights of freedom, obtained a 
bloody emancipation, and turned its artillery against 
their former masters. The place yielded to the Em- 
peror, whose soldiers soon surrendered themselves to 
the inhuman excesses of war. The blood of thirty 
thousand innocent inhabitants reddened his victory. 
Amidst these scenes of horror there was but one spec- 
tacle that afforded him any satisfaction. Ten thousand 
Christian slaves met him, as he entered the town, 
and falling on their knees, thanked him as their de- 
liverer.t 

In the treaty of peace which ensued, it was expressly 
stipulated on the part of Tunis, that all Christian slaves, 



* Sismondij HlsLoire des Franpais, Tom. XVII. p. 102. 
t Robertson's Charles the Fifth, Book V. 



222 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

of whatever nation, should be set at liberty without ran- 
som, and that no subject of the Emperor should for the 
future be detained in slavery. * 

The apparent generosity of this undertaking, the 
magnificence with which it was conducted, and the 
success with which it was crowned, drew to the Em- 
peror the homage of his age beyond any other event 
of his reign. Twenty thousand slaves, freed by the 
treaty, or by his arms, diffused through Europe the praise 
of his name. It is probable, that, in this expedition, the 
Emperor was governed by motives little higher than 
those of vulgar ambition and fame; but the results 
with which it was crowned, in the emancipation of so 
many of his fellow-christians from cruel chains, place 
him, with Cardinal Ximenes, among the earliest Aboli- 
tionists of modern times. 

This was in 1535. Only a few short years before, 
in 1517, he had granted to a Flemish courtier the ex- 
clusive privilege of importing four thousand blacks from 
Africa into the West Indies. It is said that Charles 
lived long enough to repent what he had thus inconsid- 
erately done.t Certain it is, no single concession, re- 
corded in history, of king or emperor, has produced 
such disastrous far-reaching consequences. The Flem- 
in<T sold his privilege to a company of Genoese mer- 
chanls, who organized a systematic traffic in slaves 
between Africa and America. Thus, while levying a 
mighty force to check the piracies of Barbarossa, and 
to procure the abolition of Christian slavery in Tunis, 

* Ibid. 

t Clarkson's History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade, Vol. I. 
p. 38. 



ITS HISTORY. 223 

the Emperor, with a wretched inconsistency, laid the 
corner-stone of a new system of slavery in America, in 
comparison with which the enormity that he sought to 
suppress was trivial and fugitive. 

Elated by the conquest of Tunis, filled also with the 
ambition of subduing all the Barbary States, and of 
extirpating the custom of Christian slavery, the Empe- 
ror in 1541 directed an expedition of singular grandeur 
against Algiers. The Pope again joined his influence 
to the martial array. But nature proved stronger than 
the Pope and Emperor. Within sight of Algiers, a 
sudden storm shattered his proud fleet, and he was 
obliged to return to Spain, discomfited, bearing none of 
those trophies of emancipation by which his former ex- 
pedition had been crowned.* 

The power of the Barbary States was now at its 
height. Their corsairs became the scourge of Christen- 
dom ; while their much-dreaded system of slavery 
assumed a front of new terrors. Their ravages were 
not confined to the Mediterranean. They penetrated 
the ocean ; and pressed even to the Straits of Dover and 
St. George's Channel. From the chalky cliffs of Eng- 
land, and even from the distant western coasts of 
Ireland, unsuspecting inhabitants were swept into cruel 
captivity, t The English government was aroused to 



* Robertson's Charles the F'ifih, Book VI. ; Harleian Miscellany, 
Vol. IV. p. 504 ; — A lanmentahle and piteous Treatise, very neces- 
sarye for euerie Christen INlanne to reade [or ihe Expedition of 
Charles the Fifth,] truly and dyly^ently translated out of Latyn 
into Frenche, and out of Frenche into En^^lish, 1512. 

t Guizot's History of the English Revolution, Vol. I. p. 09, Book 
II. ; Strafford's Letters and Despatches, Vol. I. p. 68. Sir George 
RadclitTe, the friend and biographer of the Earl, boasts that the latter 



224 AVHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

efforts to check these atrocities. In 1620, a fleet of 
eighteen ships, under the command of Sir Robert Man- 
sel, the Vice-Admiral of England, was despatched 
against Algiers. It returned without being able, in the 
language of the times, " to destroy those hellish pirates," 
though it obtained the liberation of forty " poor captives, 
which they pretended was all they had in the towne." 
" The efforts of the English fleet were aided," says 
Purchas, " by a Christian captive, which did swim from 
the towne to the ships." * It is not in this respect only 
that this expedition recalls that of Charles the Fifth, 
which received important assistance from rebel slaves ; 
we also observe a similar deplorable inconsistency of 
conduct in the government which directed it. It was 
in the year 1620, — dear to all the descendants of the 
Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock as an epoch of freedom,^— 
while an English fleet was seeking the emancipation of 
Englishmen held in bondage by Algiers, that African 
slaves were first introduced into the English colonies of 
North America, — thus beginning that dreadful system, 
whose long catalogue of humiliation and woes is not 
yet complete ! f 

" secured the seas from piracies, so as only one ship was lost at his 
first coming [as Lord Lieutenant to Ireland], and no more all his 
time; whereof every year before, not only several ships and goods 
were lost by robbery at sea, but also Turkish men-of-war usually 
lauded and took prey of men to be viade slaves." — Ibid. Vol. II. 
p. 434. 

* Purchas's Pilgrims, pp. 885, 886 ; Southey's Naval History of 
England, Vol. V. pp. 60-63. There was a publication especially re- 
lating to this expedition, entitled ; Algiers Voyage, in a Journall or 
briefe P*.eperlory of all Occurrents hapning in the Fleet of Ships sent 
out by the Klnge his Most Excellent Majestie, as well against the 
Pirates of Algiers as others. London. 1G21. 4to. 

t Bancroft's History of the United States, Vol. I. p. 187. 



ITS HISTORY. 225 

The expedition against Algiers was followed, in 1637, 
by another, under the command of Captain Rainsbor- 
ough, against Sallee, in Morocco. At his approacli, 
the Moors desperately transferred a thousand captives, 
British subjects, to Tunis and Algiers. " Some Chris- 
tians that were slaves ashore, who stole away out of 
the towne and came swimming aboard," and also in- 
testine feud aiding the fleet, the cause of emancipation 
speedily triumphed. * Twohundred and ninety British 
captives were surrendered ; and a promise was extorted 
from the government of Sallee to redeem the wretched 
captives, sold away to Tunis and Algiers. An ambassa- 
dor from the king of Morocco shortly afterwards visited 
England, and, on his way, through the streets of Lon- 
don, to his audience at court, was attended " by four 
Barbary horses led along in rich caparisons, and richer 
saddles, with bridles set with stones ; also some hawks ; 
many of the captives ichom he brought over going along 
afoot clad in whiter t 

The importance attached to this achievement may be 
inferred from the singular joy with which it was hailed 
in England. Though on a limited scale, it had been a 
war of liberation. The poet, the ecclesiastic and the 
statesman now joined in congratulations on its results. 
It inspired the Muse of Waller to a poem called the 
Taking of Sallee^ in which the submission of the slave- 
holding enemy is thus described : 

Hither he sends the chief among- his peers, 
Who in his bark proportioned presents bears, 

* Osborne's Voyages, — Journal of the Sallee Fleet, Vol. II. 
p. 493. See also Mrs. Macauiay's Hislory of England, Vol. II. 
Chap. 4, p. 219. 

t Siraflord's Letter and DispalchcS; Vol. II. pp. 80, IIC, 129. 

VOL. 1. 15 



226 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

To the renowned for piety and force. 

Poor captives manumised, and matchless horse. 

It satisfied Laud, and filled with exultation the dark 
mind of StrafTord. " Sallee, the town, is taken," said 
the Archbishop in a letter to the latter, then in Ireland, 
" and all the captives at Sallee and Morocco delivered ; 
as 7nany^ our merchants say, as, according to the price 
of the markets, come to ten thousand pounds, at least.'''' * 
Strafford saw in the popularity of this triumph a fresh 
opportunity to commend the tyrannical designs of his 
master Charles the First. " This action of Sallee," he 
wrote in reply to the archbishop, " I assure you is full 
of honor, and should, methinks, help much towards the 
ready cheerful payment of the shipping monies.'''' i 

The coasts of England were now protected ; but her 
subjects at sea continued the prey of Algerine corsairs, 
who, according to the historian Carte, | now "carried 
their English captives to France, drove them in chains 
overland to Marseilles, to ship them thence loith greater- 
safety for slaves to Algiers.'''' The increasing troubles, 
which distracted and finally cut short the reign of 
Charles the First, could not divert attention from the 
sorrows of Englishmen, victims to Mahomedan slave- 
drivers. At the height of the struggles between the 
king and Parliament, an earnest voice was raised in 
behalf of these fellow-christians in bonds. § Waller, 
who was an orator as well as a poet, in a speech in 
Parliament in 1641, said, "By the many petitions 

* Strafford's Letters and Dispatches, Vol, II. p. 131. 
t Ibid. p. 133. 

t Carte's History of England, Vol. IV. Book xxii. p. 231. 
§ Waller's Works, p. 271. 



ITS HISTORY. 227 

which we receive from the wives of those miserable 
captives at Algiers (being between four and five thou- 
sand of our countrymen) it does too evidently appear, 
that to make us slaves at home is not the way to keep 
us from being made slaves abroad." Publications plead- 
ing their cause, bearing date in 16J0, 1642, and 1647, 
are yet extant.* The overthrow of an oppression so 
justly odious formed a worthy object for the imperial 
energies of Cromwell ; and in 1(355, — when, amidst 
the amazement of Europe, the English sovereignty 
had already settled upon his Atlantean shoulders, — he 
directed into the Mediterranean a navy of thirty ships, 
under the command of Admiral Blake. This was the 
most powerful English force which had sailed into that 
sea since the Crusades, t Its success was complete. 
" General Blak," said one of the foreign agents of gov- 
ernment, " has ratifyed the articles of peace at Argier, 
and included therein Scotch, Irish, Jarnsey and Garn- 

* Compassion towards Captives, urged in Three Sermons, on 
Heb. xiii. 3, by Chades Fitz-Geolfrey, 1642. Libertas ; or Relief to 
the English Captives in Algiers, by Henry Robinson, London, 1647. 
Letters relating to the Redemption of the Captive in Algiers, at 
Tunis, by Edward Cason Laud, 1647. A Relation of Seven Years' 
Slavery under the Turks of Algiers, suffered by an English Captive 
Merchant, with a Description of the Sufferings of the Miserable Cap- 
tives under that Merciless Tyranny, by Francis Knight, London, 
1640. The last publication is preserved in the Collection of Voy- 
ages and Travels by Osborne, Vol. IL pp. 465-489. 

t Hume says (Vol. VH. p. 529, Chap. LXL),— "No English fleet, 
except during the Crusades, had ever before sailed in those seas." He 
forgot, or was not aware of, the expedition of Sir John Mansel 
already mentioned (ante, p. 224), which was elaborately debated in 
the Privy Council as early as 1617, three years before it was finally 
undertaken, and which was the subject of a special work. See 
Southey's Naval History of England, Vol. V. pp. 149-157. 



228 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

sey-men, and all others the Protector''s subjects. He 
has lykevvys redeemed from thence al such as wer 
captiv^es ther. Several Dutch captives swam aboard 
the fleets and so escape theyr captivity y * Tunis as well 
as Algiers was humbled ; all British captives were set 
at liberty ; and the Protector, in his remarkable speech 
at the opening of Parliament in the next year, an- 
nounced peace with the " profane " nations in that 
region, t 

To my mind no single circumstance gives a higher 
impression of the vigilance with which the Protector 
guarded his subjects, than this effort, to which Waller, 
with his " smooth " line aptly alludes, as 

telling dreadful news 
To all that piracy and rapine use. 

His vigorous sway was followed by the effeminate 
tyranny of Charles the Second, whose restoration was 
inaugurated by an unsuccessful expedition against Ai- 
mers under Lord Sandwich. This was soon followed 

o 

by another, with a more favorable result, under Admi- 
ral Lawson.J By a treaty bearing date May 3d, 1662, 
the piratical government expressly stipulated, " that all 
subjects of the king of Great Britain, now slaves in 
Algiers, or any of the territories thereof, be set at 
liberty, and released, upon paying the price they were 
first sold for in the market ; and for the time to come 
no subjects of his Majesty shall be bought or sold, or 
made slaves of, in Algiers or its territories." § Other 

* Thurloe's State Papers, Vol. III. p. 527. 

t Carlyle's Letters and Speeches of Cromwell, Vol. II. p. 23G, 
Part IX., Speech V. 

t Rapiivs History of England, Vol. II. pp. S58, 8G4. 
§ Recucil des Traitcz de Paix, Tom. IV. p. 43. 



ITS HISTORY. 229 

expeditions ensued, and other treaties in 1664, 1G72, 
I68'2, and 1680, — showing, by their constant recur- 
rence and iteration, the little impression produced upon 
those barbarians.* Insensible to justice and freedom, 
they naturally held in slight regard the obligations of 
fidelity to any stipulations in restraint of robbery and 
slaveholding. 

During a long succession of years, complaints of the 
sufferings of English captives continued to be made. 
An earnest spirit, in 1748, found expression in these 
words : 

O how can Britain's sons regardless hear 
The prayers, sighs, groans (immortal infamy !) 
Of fellow-Britons, with oppression sunk, 
In bitterness of soul demanding aid, 
Calling on Britain, their dear native land, 
The land of liberty! t 

But during all this time, the slavery of blacks, trans- 
ported to the colonies under British colors, still con- 
tinued ! 

Meanwhile, France had plied Algiers with embassies 
and bombardments. In J 635 there were three hun- 
dred and forty-seven Frenchmen captives there. Mon- 
sieur de Sampson was dispatched on an unsuccessful 
mission, to procure their liberation. They were offered 
to him " for the price they were sold for in the mar- 
ket;" but this he refused to pay.| Next came, in 
1637, Monsieur de Mantel, who was called " that noble 
captain, and glory of the French nation," " with fifteen 

* Ibid., pp. 307,476, 703, 756. 

t The Gentleman's Magazine, Vol XVIII. p. 531. 
t Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. p 468 ; Relation of Seven Years' 
Slavery in Algiers. 



230 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

of his king's ships, and a commission to enfranchise 
the French slaves." But he also returned, leaving his 
countrymen still in captivity.* Treaties followed at a 
later day, which were hastily concluded, and abruptly 
broken ; till at last Louis the Fourteenth did for France 
what Cromwell had done for England. In 1684, 
Algiers, being twice bombarded t by his command, 
sent deputies to sue for peace, and to surrender all 
her Christian slaves. Tunis and Tripoli made the 
same submission. Voltaire, with his accustomed point, 
says, that, by this transaction, the French became re- 
spected on the coast of Africa, where they had before 
been known only as slaves, t 

An incident is mentioned by the historian, which un- 
happily shows how little the French at that time, even 
while engaged in securing the emancipation of their 
own countrymen, had at heart the cause of general 
freedom. As an officer of the triumphant fleet received 
the Christian slaves who were brought to him and lib- 
erated, he observed among them many English, who, 

* Ibid., p. 470. 

t In the melancholy history of war, this is remarked as the earliest 
instance of tlie bombardment of a town. Sismondi, who never fails 
to regard the past in the light of humanity, remarks, that •' Louis 
the Fourteenth was the first to put in practice the atrocious method, 
newly invented, of bombarding towns, — of burning them, not to 
take them, but to destroy them, — of attacking, not fortifications, but 
private houses, — not soldiers, but peaceable inhabitants, women and 
children, and of confounding" thousands of 2Drivate crimes, each one 
of which would cause horror, in one great public crime, one great dis- 
aster, which he regarded only as one of the catastrophes of tear.'' — 
Sismop.di, HLsloire des F'rancj.is, Tom. XXV^. p. 452. How much 
of this is justly applicable to the recent murder of women and chil- 
dren by the forces of the United States at Vera Cruz ! Algiers was 
bombarded in the cause o[ freedom; Vera Cruz, to extend slavery! 

t Siecle de Louis XIV., ch. 14. 



HISTORY REDEMPTION OF SLAVES. 231 

in tlie empty pride of nationality, maintained that they 
were set at liberty out of regard to the king of England. 
The Frenchman at once summoned the Algerines,and, 
returning the foolish captives into their hands, said, 
" These people pretend that they have been delivered 
in the name of their monarch ; mine does not offer 
them his protection. I return them to you. It is for 
you to show what you owe to the king of England." 
The Englishmen were again hurried to prolonged 
slavery. The power of Charles the Second was im- 
potent in their behalf — as was the sense of justice and 
humanity in the French officer or in the Algerine gov- 
ernment. 

Time would fail, even if the materials were at hand, 
to develop the course of other efforts by France against 
the Barbary States. Nor can I dwell upon the deter- 
mined conduct of Holland, one of whose greatest naval 
commanders. Admiral de Ruyter, in 1661, enforced at 
Algiers the emancipation of several hundred Christian 
slaves.* The inconsistency, which we have so often 
remarked, occurs also in the conduct of France and 
Holland. Both these countries, while using their best 
endeavors for the freedom of their white people, were 
cruelly engaged in selling blacks into distant Amer- 
ican slavery ; as if every word of reprobation, which 
they fastened upon the piratical, slave-holding Alge- 
rines, did not return in eternal judgment against them- 
selves. 

Thus far I have chiefly followed the history of mili- 
tary expeditions. War has been our melancholy bur- 

* Gentleman's Magazine, Vol. XVIII. p. 441. 



232 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

then. But peaceful measures were also employed to 
procure the redemption of slaves ; and money some- 
times accomplished what was vainly attempted by the 
sword. In furtherance of this object, missions were 
often sent by the European governments. These some- 
times had a formal diplomatic organization ; sometimes 
they consisted of fathers of the Church, who held it a 
sacred office, to which they were especially called, to 
open the prison-doors and let the captives go free.* 
It was through the intervention of the superiors of the 
Order of the Holy Trinity, who were dispatched to 
Algiers by Philip the Second of Spain, that Cervantes 
obtained his freedom by ransom, in 1579.t Expedi- 
tions of commerce often served to promote similar de- 
signs of charity ; and the English government, forget- 
ting or distrusting all their sleeping thunder, sometimes 
condescended to barter articles of merchandise for the 
liberty of their subjects. | 

* To the relations of these missions, we are indebted for works of 
interest on the Barbary States, some of which I am able to mention. 
Busnot, Hlstoire du Regne de Mouley Ishmael, a Rouen, 1714. This 
is by a father of the Holy Trinity. Jean de la Faye, Relaiiov, en 
Forme de Journal, du Voyage pour la Redemption des Captifs, a 
Paris, 1725. Voyage to Barhai^ for the Redemption of Captives in 
1720, by the Mat hur in- Trinitarian Fathers, London, 1735. The 
last is a translation from the French. Braithioaite's History of the 
Revolutions of the Empire of Morocco, London, 1729. This contains 
a journal of the mission of John Russel, Esq., from the English gov- 
ernment to Morocco, to obtain the liberation of slaves. The expe- 
dition was thoroughly equipped. "The Moors," says the author, 
" find plenty of every thing but drink, but for that the English gen- 
erally take care of themselves ; for, besides chairs, tables, knives, 
forks, plates, table-linen, &c., we had two or three mules, loaded 
with wine, brandy, sugar, and utensils for punch," — p. 82. 

i Roscoe's Life of Cervantes, p. 43. 

t " The following goods, designed as a present from bis Majesty 



HISTORY REDEMPTION OF SLAVES. 233 

Private efforts often secured the freedom of slaves. 
Friends at home naturally exerted themselves in their 
behalf; and many families were straitened by generous 
contributions to this sacred purpose. The widowed 
mother of Cervantes sacrificed all the pittance that re- 
mained to her, including the dowry of her daughters, in 
order to aid in the emancipation of her son. An Eng- 
lishman, of whose doleful captivity there is a record in 
the memoirs of his son, obtained his redemption through 
the earnest efforts of his wife at home. " She re- 
solved," says the story, " to use all the means that lay 
in her power for his freedom, though she left nothing 
for herself and children to subsist upon. She was 
forced to put to sale, as she did, some plate, gold rings 
and bracelets, and some part of her household goods 
to make up his ransom, which came to about ^150 
sterling."* Tn 1642, four French brothers were ran- 
somed at the price of six thousand dollars. At this 
same period, the sum exacted for the poorest Spaniards 
was " a thousand shillings ; " while Genoese, " if under 
twenty-two years of age, were freed for a hundred 
pounds sterling." t These charitable endeavors were 
aided by the cooperation of benevolent persons. George 
Fox interceded in behalf of several Quakers, slaves 

to the Dej- of Algiers, to redeem near one hundred English captives 
lately taken, were entered at the custom-house, viz., — 20 pieces of 
broadcloth, 2 pieces of brocade, 2 pieces of silver tabby, I piece of 
green damask, 8 pieces of Holland, 16 pieces of cambric, a gold re- 
peathig watch, 4 silver do., 20 pounds of tea, 300 of loaf-sugar, 5 fu- 
zees, 5 pair of pistols, an escrutoire, 2 clocks, and a box of toys." — 
Gent. Mag. IV. p. 104 (1734). 

* MS. Memoirs of Abraham Brown. 

t Osborne's Voyages, Vol, II. p. 189 ; Relation of Seven Years' 
Slavery in Algiers. 



234 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

in Algiers, writing " a book to the Grand Sultan and 
the king at Algiers, wherein he laid before them their 
indecent behavior and unreasonable dealings, showing 
them from their Alcoran that this displeased God, and 
that Mahomet had given them other directions." Some 
time elapsed before an opportunity was found to re- 
deem them ; " but in the meanwhile they so faithfully 
served their masters, that they were suffered to go 
loose through the town, without being chained or fet- 
tered." * 

As early as the thirteenth century, under the sanc- 
tion of the Pope, Innocent the Third, an important 
association was organized to promote the emancipation 
of Christian slaves. This was known as the Society of 
the Fathers of Redemption. ^f During many successive 
generations its blessed labors were continued, amidst the 
praise and sympathy of generous men. History, under- 
taking to recount its origin, and filled with a grateful 
sense of its extraordinary merits, attributed it to the 
suggestion of an angel in the sky, clothed in resplen- 
dent light, holding a Christian captive in his right hand, 
and a Moor in the left. The pious Spaniard, who 
narrates the marvel, earnestly declares that this insti- 
tution of beneficence was the work, not of men, but 
of the great God alone ; and he dwells, with more than 
the warmth of narrative, on the glory, filling the lives 
of its associates, as surpassing far that of a Roman 
triumph ; for they share the name as well as the labors 
of the Redeemer of the world, to whose spirit they are 
the heirs, and to whose works they are the successors. 

* Sewell's History of the Quakers, p. 397. 

+ Biot, De V Abolition de VEsclavage Ancien, p. 437. 



HISTORY — CONSPIRACIES OF SLAVES. 235 

" Lucullus," he says, " afiirmed, that it were better to 
liberate a single Roman from the hands of the enemy, 
than to gain all their wealth ; but how much greater 
the gain, more excellent the glory, and more than hu- 
man is it to redeem a captive ! For whosoever redeems 
him not only liberates him from one death, but from 
death in a thousand ways, and those ever present, and 
also from a thousand afflictions, a thousand miseries, a 
thousand torments and fearful travails, more cruel than 
death itself." * The genius of Cervantes has left a 
record of his gratitude to this Anti-Slavery Society t — 
the harbinger of others whose mission is not yet finished. 
Throughout Spain annual contributions for its sacred 
objects continued to be taken for many years. Nor in 
Spain only did it awaken sympathy. In Italy and 
France also it successfully labored ; and as late as 1748, 
inspired by a similar catholic spirit, if not by its exam- 
ple, a proposition appeared in England " to establish a 
society to carry on the truly charitable design of eman- 
cipating" sixty-four Englishmen, slaves in Morocco. | 

War and ransom were not the only agents of eman- 
cipation. Even if history were silent, it would be im- 
possible to suppose that the slaves of African Barbary 
endured their lot without struggles for freedom. 

Since the first moment they put on my chains, 
I've thought on nothing but the weight of them, 
And how to throw ihem off. 

* Haedo, Hlstoria de Argel, pp. 142 - 144 ; Dialogo 1. de la Cap- 
iiudad. 

t Roscoe's Life of Cervantes, p, 50. See his story of Espanola 
Inglesa. 

X Gentleman's Mag., XVIII. p. 413. 



236 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

These are the words of a slave in the play ; * but they 
express the natural inborn sentiments of all who have 
intelligence sufficient to appreciate the great boon of 
freedom. " Thanks be to God," says the captive in 
Don Quixote, " for the great mercies bestowed upon 
me ; for in my opinion, there is no happiness on earth 
equal to that of liberty regained." f And plain Thomas 
Phelps — once a slave at Machiness in Morocco, from 
whence, in 1685, he fortunately escaped — in the narra- 
tive of his adventures and sufferings, breaks forth in a 
similar strain. " Since my escape," he says, " from 
captivity, and worse than Egyptian bondage, I have, 
methinks, enjoyed a happiness with which my former 
life was never acquainted ; now that, after a storm and 
terrible tempest, I have, by miracle, put into a safe and 
quiet harbor, — after a most miserable slavery to the 
most unreasonable and barbarous of men, now that I 
enjoy the immunities and freedom of my native country 
and the privileges of a subject of England, although 
my circumstances otherwise are but indifferent, yet I 
find I am affected with extraordinary emotions and 
singular transports of joy ; now I know what liberty 
is, and can put a value and make a just estimate of 
that happiness which before I never well understood. 
Health can be but slightly esteemed by him who never 
was acquainted with pain or sickness ; and liberty and 

* Oronooko, Act III. Sc. I. It is not strange that the anlislavery 
character of this play rendered it an unpopular performance at Liv- 
erpool, while the prosperous merchants there were concerned in the 
slave-trade. 

t Don Quixote, Part I. Book IV. Chap. 12. 



HISTORY CONSPIRACIES OF SLAVES. 2^^ 

freedom are the happiness only valuable by a reflection 
on captivity and slavery." * 

The history of Algiers abounds in well-authenticated 
examples of conspiracy against the government by 
Christian slaves. So strong was the passion for free- 
dom ! In 1531 and 1559, two separate plans were 
matured, which promised for a while entire success. 
The slaves were numerous ; keys to open the prisons 
had been forged and arms supplied ; but by the trea- 
son of one of their number, the plot was betrayed to 
the Dey, who sternly doomed the conspirators to the 
bastinado and the stake. Cervantes, during his captivitv, 
nothing daunted by these disappointed efforts, and the 
terrible vengeance which awaited them, conceived the 
plan of a general insurrection of the Christian slaves, 
to secure their freedom by the overthrow of the Algerine 
power, and the surrender of the city to the Spanish 
crown. This was in the spirit of that sentiment, to 
which he gives utterance in his writings, that " for lib- 
erty we ought to risk life itself, slavery being the greatest 
evil that can foil to the lot of man."' t As late as 1763, 
there was a similar insurrection or conspiracy. " Last 
month," says a journal of high authority, t " the Chris- 
tian slaves at Algiers, to the number of four thousand, 
rose and killed their guards, and massacred all who 
came in their way ; but after some hours'* carnage. 



* Osborne's Voyages, Vol II. p. 500. 

t Roscoc's Life of Cervantes, pp. 32, 310, 31J . In llic same s])irit 
Thomas Phelps says ; " I looked upon my condition as desperate ; 
my forlorn and languishing state of life, without any hope of redemp- 
tion, appeared far worse than the terrors of a most cruel death."' 

Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. p. 504. 

t British Annual Register, Vol. VI. p. 60. 



238 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

during which the streets ran with blood, peace was 
restored." 

But the struggles for freedom could not always as- 
sume the shape of conspiracies against the government. 
They were often efforts to escape^ sometimes in num- 
bers, and sometimes singly. The captivity of Cervantes 
was filled with such endeavors, in which, though con- 
stantly balked, he persevered with determined courage 
and skill. On one occasion he attempted to escape by 
land to Oran, a Spanish settlement on the coast, but 
was deserted by his guide and compelled to return.* 
Another endeavor was favored by a number of his own 
countrymen, hovering on the coast in a vessel from 
Majorca, — who did not think it wrong to aid in the lib- 
eration of slaves ! Another was promoted by Christian 
merchants at Algiers, through whose agency a vessel 
was actually purchased for this purpose, t And still 
another was supposed to be aided by a Spanish ecclesi- 
astic. Father Olivar, who being at Algiers to procure 
the legal emancipation of slaves, could not resist the 
temptation to lend a generous assistance to the struggles 
of his fellow-christians in bonds. If he were sufficiently 
courageous and devoted to do this, he paid the bitter 
penalty which similar services to freedom have found 
elsewhere and in another age. He was seized by the 
Dey and thrown into chains ; for it was regarded by 
the Algerine government as a high offence to further in 
any way the escape of a slave, f 

* EI Trato de Argel. 

t Rnscoe's Life of Cervantes, pp. 31, 308, 309. I refer to Roscoe 
as the popular authority. His work appears to be little more than a 
compilation from Navarrete and Sismondi. 

+ Ibid., p. 33. See also Haedo, Hisioria de Argel, p. 185. 



HISTORY — ESCAPE OF SLAVES. 239 

Endeavors for freedom are animating ; nor can any 
honest nature hear of them without a throb of sympathy 
As we dwell on the painful narrative of the unequal 
contest between tyrannical power and the crushed cap- 
tive or slave, we resolutely enter the lists on the side 
of freedom ; and as we behold the contest waged by a 
few individuals, or perhaps, by one alone, our sympathy 
is given to his weakness as well as to his cause. To 
him we send the unfaltering succor of our good wishes. 
For him we invoke vigor of arm to defend, and fleet- 
ness of foot to escape. The enactments of human 
laws are vain to restrain the warm tides of the heart. 
We pause with rapture on those historic scenes, in which 
freedom has been attempted or preserved through the 
magnanimous self-sacrifice of friendship or Christian 
aid. With palpitating bosom, we follow the midnight 
flight of Mary of Scotland from the custody of her 
stern jailers ; we acccompany Grotius in his escape 
from prison in Holland, so adroitly promoted by his 
wife ; we join with Lavalette in France, in his flight, 
aided also by his wife ; and we offer our admiration 
and gratitude to Huger and Boll man, who, unawed by 
the abitrary ordinances of Austria, strove heroically, 
though vainly, to rescue Lafayette from the dungeons 
of OhTiutz. The laws of Algiers — which sanctioned 
a cruel slavery, and which doomed to condign penalties 
all endeavors for freedom, and especially all support 
and countenance of such endeavors — can no longer 
prevent our homage to Cervantes, not less gallant than 
renowned, who strove so constantly and earnestly to 
escape his chains ; nor our homage to those Christians 
also who did not fear to aid him, and to the good 
ecclesiastic who suffered in his cause. 



240 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

The story of the efforts to escape from slavery in 
the Barbary States, so far as they can be traced, are 
full of interest. The following is in the exact words 
of an early writer : — 

" One John Fox, an expert mariner, and a good, ap- 
proved, and sufficient gunner, was (in the raigne of 
Queene Elizabeth) taken by the Turkes, and kept 
eighteen yeeres in most miserable bondage and slavery ; 
at the end of which time, he espied his opportunity 
(and God assisting him withall) that hee slew his keeper, 
and fled to the sea's side, where he found a gaily with 
one hundred and fifty captive Christians, which hee 
speedily waying their anchor, set saile, and fell to work 
like men, and safely arrived in Spaone ; by which 
meanes, he freed himselfe and a number of poor soules 
from long and intolerable servitude ; after which, the 
said John Fox came into England, and the Queene 
{being rightly informed of his brave exploit) did gra- 
ciously entertaine liimforher servant, and allowed him 
a yeerly pension.'''' * 

There is also, in the same early source, a quaint de- 
scription of what occurred to a ship from Bristol 
captured in IG21 by an Algerine corsair. The Eng- 
lishmen were all taken out except four youths, over 
whom the Turks, as these barbarians were often called 
by early writers, put thirteen of their own men, to con- 
duct the ship as a prize to Algiers ; and one of the 
pirates a strong, able, stern, and resolute person, was 
appointed captain. " These four poor youths," so the 
story proceeds, " being thus fallen into the hands of 
merciless infidels, began to study and complot all the 

* Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. p. SS8. 



HISTORY ESCAPE OF SLAVES. 241 

means they could for the obtaynhig of their freedom. 
They considered the lamentable and miserable estates 
that they were like to be in, as to be debarred for ever 
from seeing their friends and country, to be chained, 
beaten, made slaves, and to eat the bread of affliction in 
the galleys, all the remainder of their unfortunate lives, 
and, which was worst of all, never to be partakers of 
the heavenly word and sacraments. Thus being quite 
hopeless, and, for any thing they knew, for ever help- 
less, they sailed five days and nights under the command 
of the pirates, when, on the fifth night, God, in his great 
mercy, shewed them a means for their wished-for es- 
cape." A sudden wind arose, when, the captain coming 
to help take in the main-sail, two of the English youths 
" suddenly took him by the breech and threw him over- 
board ; but by fortune he fell into the bunt of the sail, 
where quickly catching hold of a rope, he, being a very 
strong man, had almost gotten into the ship again ; 
which John Cook perceiving, leaped speedily to the 
pump, and took off the pump-brake or handle and cast 
it to William Long, bidding him knock him down, which 
he was not long in doing, but, lifting up the wooden 
weapon, he gave him such a palt on the pate, as made 
his braines forsake the possession of his head, with 
which his body fell into the sea." The corsair slave- 
dealers were overpowered. The four English youths 
drove them " from place to place in the ship, and hav- 
ing coursed them from poop to the forecastle, they there 
valiantly killed two of them, and gave another a dan- 
gerous wound or two, who, to escape the further fury 
of their swords, leaped suddenly overboard to go seek 
his captain." The other nine Turks ran between-decks, 

VOL. I. 16 



242 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

where they were securely fastened. The English now 
dh'ected their course to St. Lucas, in Spain, and " in short 
tinne, hy God's ayde, happily and safely arrived at the 
said port, where they sold the nine Turks for gaUey 
slaves, for a good summe of inoney, and as 1 thinke, 
a great deal more than they were worth.'''' * " He that 
shall attribute such things as these," says the ancient 
historian, grateful for this triumph of freedom, " to the 
arm of flesh and blood, is forgetful, ungrateful, and 
in a manner Atheistical." 

From the same authority I draw another narrative of 
singular success, in achieving freedom. Several Eng- 
lishmen, being captured and carried into Algiers, were 
sold as slaves. These are the words of one of their num- 
ber ; " We were hurried like dogs into the ?narket, where, 
as men sell hacknies in England, we were tossed up and 
down to see ivho would give most for us ; and although 
ice had heavy hearts and looked ivith sad countenances, 
yet many came to behold us, sometijnes taking us hy the 
hand, sometimes turning us round about, sometimes 
feeling our braw?iy aiid naked armes, and so beholding 
our prices written in our breasts, they bargained for us 
accordingly, and at last lue were all soldy Shortl}' 
afterward several were put on board an Algerine cor- 
sair to serve as slaves. One of them, John Rawlins, 
who resembled Cervantes in the hardihood of his exer- 
tions for freedom, — as, like him, he had lost the use 
of an arm, — arranged a rising or insurrection on 
board. " O hellish slavery," he said, " to be thus sub- 
ject to dogs ! O God ! strengthen my heart and hand, 
and something shall be done to ease us of these mis- 

* Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 882-883. 



HISTORY — ESCAPE OF SLAVES. 243 

chiefs, and deliver us from these cruel Mahometan dogs. 
What can be worse ? I will either attempt my deliver- 
ance at one time or another, or perish in the enterprise." 
An auspicious moment was seized ; and eight English 
slaves and one French, with the assistance of four Hol- 
landers, freemen, succeeded, after a bloody contest, in 
overpowering fifty-two Turks. " When all was done,'* 
the story proceeds, " and the ship cleared of the dead 
bodies, Rawlins assembled his men together, and with 
one consent gave the praise unto God, using the accus- 
tomed service on shipboard, and, for want of books, 
lifted up their voices to God, as he put into their hearts 
or renewed their memories ; then did they sing a psalm, 
and, last of all, embraced one another for playing the 
men in such a deliverance, whereby our fear was turned 
into joy, and trembling hearts exhilarated that we had 
escaped such inevitable dangers, and especially the 
slavery and terror of bondage worse than death itself 
The same night we washed our ship, put every thing in 
as good order as we could, repaired the broken quarter, 
set up the biticle, and bore up the helme for England, 
where, by God's grace and good guiding, we arrived at 
Plimouth, February 17th, 1622." * 

In IGSo, Thomas Phelps and Edward Baxter, Eng- 
lishmen, accomplished their escape from captivity in 
Machiness, in Morocco. One of them had made a 
previous unsuccessful attempt, which drew upon him 
the punishment of the bastinado, disabling liim from 
work' for a twelvemonth ; " but such was his love of 
Christian liberty, that he freely declared to his com- 
panion, that he would adventure whh any fair oppor- 

* Purchas's Pilgrims, Vol. II. pp. 839 -896. 



244 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

tunity." By devious paths, journeying in the darkness 
of night, and by day sheltering themselves from obser- 
vation in bushes, or in the branches of fig-trees, they at 
length reached the sea. With imminent risk of dis- 
covery, they succeeded in finding a boat, not far from 
Sallee. This they took without consulting the proprie- 
tor, and rowed to a ship at a distance, which, to their 
great joy, proved to be an English man-of-war. Making 
known to its commander the exposed situation of the 
Moorish ships at Mamora, they formed part of an ex- 
pedition in boats, which boarded and burnt these ships 
in the night. " One Moor," says the account, " we 
found aboard, who was presendy cut in pieces; another 
was shot in the head, endeavoring to escape upon the 
cable ; we were not long in taking in our shavings and 
tar-barrels, and so set her on fire in several places, she 
being very apt to receive what we designed ; for there 
were several barrels of tar upon deck, and she was 
newly tarred, as if on purpose. Whilst we were set- 
ting her on fire, we heard a noise of some people in 
the hold ; we opened the skuttles, and thereby saved 
the lives of four Christians, three Dutchmen and one 
French, who told us the ship on fire was Admiral, and 
belonged to Aly-Hackum, and the other, which we soon 
after served with the same sauce, was the very ship 
which in October last took me captive." The English- 
man, once a captive, who tells this story, says it is 
" most especially to move pity for the afiiictions of Jo- 
seph, to excite compassionate regard to those poor coun- 
trymen now languishing in misery and irons, to endea- 
vor their releasement." * 

* Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. pp. 497-510. 



HISTORY — ESCAPE OF SLAVES. 245 

Even the non-resistance of Quakers, animated by a 
zeal for freedom, contrived to baffle these slave-dealers. 
A ship in the charge of people of this sect became 
the prey of the Algerines ; and the curious story is told 
with details, unnecessary to mention here, of the effect- 
ive manner in which the ship was subsequently recap- 
tured by the crew without loss of life. To complete 
this triumph, the slave-pirates were safely landed on 
their own shores, and allowed to go their way in peace, 
acknowledging with astonishment and gratitude this 
new application of the Christian injunction to do good 
to them that hate you. Charles the Second, learning 
from the master on his return, that " he had been taken 
by the Turks and redeemed himself without fighting," 
and that he had subsequently let his enemies go free, 
rebuked him, saying, with the spirit of a slave-dealer, 
" You have done like a fool, for you might have had a 
good gain for them." And to the mate he said, " You 
should have broujrht the Turks to me." " / thought it 
better for them to be in their own country^'''' was the 
Quaker's reply.* 

In the current of time other instances occurred of 
the successful escape of captives. A letter from Al- 
giers, dated August 6th, 1772, and preserved in the 
British Annual Register, furnishes the following story : t 
" A most remarkable escape," it says, " of some Chris- 
tian prisoners has lately been effected here, which will 
undoubtedly cause those that have not had that good 
fortune to be treated with utmost rigor. On the morn- 
ing of the 27th July, the Dey was informed that all the 

* Sewell's History of ihe Quakers, pp. 392 - 397. 
t Vol. XV. p. 130. 



246 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

Christian slaves had escaped the over-night in a galley ; 
this news soon raised him, and, upon inquiry, it was 
found to have been a preconcerted plan. About ten at 
night, seventy-four slaves, who had found means to 
escape from their masters, met in a large square near 
the gate which opens to the harbor, and, being well 
armed, they soon forced the guard to submit, and, to 
prevent their I'aising the city, confined them all in the 
powder-magazine. They then proceeded to the lower 
part of the harbor, where they embarked on board a 
large rowing polacre that was left there for the purpose, 
and, the tide ebbing out, they fell gently down with it, 
and passed both the forts. As soon as this was known, 
three large galleys were ordered out after them ; but to 
no purpose. They returned in three days, with the 
news of seeing the polacre sail into Barcelona, where 
the galleys durst not go to attack her." 

In the same journal * there is a record of another 
triumph of freedom in a letter from Palma, the capital 
of Majorca, dated September 3d, 1776. " Forty-six 
captives," it says, " who were employed to draw stones 
from a quarry some leagues' distance from Algiers, at 
at a place named Genova, resolved, if possible, to re- 
cover their liberty, and yesterday took advantege of the 
idleness and inattention of forty men who were to 
guard them, and who had laid down their arms, and 
were rambling about the shore. The captives attacked 
them with pick-axes and other tools, and made them- 
selves masters of their arms ; and, having killed thirty- 
three of the forty, and eleven of the thirteen sailors 
who were in the boat which carried the stones, they 
obliged the rest to jump into the sea. Being then mas- 

* Vol. XIX. p. 176. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 247 

ters of the boat, and armed with twelve muskets, two 
pistols, and powder, they set sail and had the good for- 
tune to arrive here this morning, where they are per- 
forming quarantine. Sixteen of them are Spaniards ; 
seventeen French ; eight Portuguese ; three Italian ; 
one a German, and one a Sardinian." 

Thus far I have followed the efforts of European na- 
tions, and the struggles of Europeans, unhappy victims 
of the system of White Slavery. I pass now to Amer- 
ica, and to our own country. In the name of fellow- 
countryman there is a charm of peculiar power. The 
story of his sorrows will come nearer to our hearts, 
and, perhaps, to the experience of individuals or fami- 
lies among us, than the story of Spaniards, Frenchmen 
or Englishmen. Nor are materials wanting. 

Even in the early days of the colonies, while they 
were yet contending with the savage Indians, many 
American families were compelled to mourn the hap- 
less fate of brothers, fathers and husbands doomed to 
slavery in distant African Barbary. Only five short 
years after the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth 
rock,* it appears from the records of the town, under 
date of 1625, that " two ships freighted from Plymouth, 
were taken by the Turks in the English channel, and 
carried into Sallee." A little later, in 1640, "one 
Austin, a man of good estate," returning discontented 
to England from Quinipiack, now New Haven, on his 
way " was taken by the Turks, and his wife and family 
were carried to Algiers, and sold there as slaves." f 



* Davis's Extracts relating to Plymouth, p. 
t Winlbrop's Journal, Vol. II. p. 11. 



248 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

And, under date of 1671, in the diary of th eRev. John 
Eliot, the first minister of Roxbury, and the apostle to 
the Indians, prefixed to the record of the church in that 
town, and still preserved in manuscript, these few words 
tell a story of sorrow : " We heard the sad and heavy 
tidings concerning the captivity of Capt. Foster and his 
son at Sallee." From farther entries in the diary it ap- 
pears, that, after a bondage of three years, they were re- 
deemed. But the same record shows other victims, for 
whom the sympathies of the church and neighborhood 
were enlisted. Here is one :" 20 !0™- 1674. This Sab- 
bath we had a public collection for Edward Howard of 
Boston, to redeem him out of his sad Turkish captivity, 
in which collection was gathered \2 lb. 18 s. 9 fZ., which 
by God's favor made up the just sum desired." And 
not long after, at a date left uncertain, it appears that 
William Bowen " was taken by the Turks ; " a contri- 
bution was made for his redemption ; " and the people 
went to the public box, young and old, but before the 
money could answer the end for which the congrega- 
tion intended it," tidings came of the death of the un- 
happy captive, and the money was afterwards " im- 
proved to build a tomb for the town to inter their 
ministers." * 

Instances now thicken. A ship, sailing from Charles- 
town, in 1678, was taken by a corsair, and carried into 
Algiers, whence its passengers and crew never re- 
turned. They probably died in slavery. Among these 
was Dr. Daniel Mason, a graduate of Harvari College, 
and the earliest of that name on the list ; also, James 
Ellson, the mate. The latter, in a testamentary letter 

* MS. Records of First Church in Roxbury. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 249 

addressed to his wife, and dated at Algiers, June 30, 
1679, desired her to redeem out of captivity two of 
his companions.* At the same period, William Harris, 
a person of consequence in the colony, one of the asso- 
ciates of Roger Williams in the first planting of Provi- 
dence, and now in the sixty-eighth year of his age, 
sailing from Boston for England on public business, 
was also taken by a corsair and carried into Algiers. 
On the 23d February, 1679, this veteran, — older than 
the slave-holder Cato, when he learned Greek, — toge- 
ther with all the crew, was sold into slavery. The fate 
of his companions is unknown ; but Mr. Harris, after 
remaining in this condition more than a year, obtained 
his freedom at the cost of 81200, called by him " the 
price of a good farm." The feelings of the people of 
the colony, touched by these disasters, are concisely 
expresssed in a private letter dated at Boston, New 
England, November 10th, 1680, where it is said: 
" The Turks have so taken our New England ships 
richly loaden homeward bound, that it is very danger- 
ous to goe. Many of our neighbors are now in cap- 
tivity in Argeer. The Lord, find out some way for 
their redemption." t 

Still later, as we enter the next century, we meet a 
curious notice of the captivity of a Bostonian. Under 
date of Tuesday, January 11th, 1714, Chief Justice 
Samuel Sewell, in his journal, after describing a dinner 
with Mr. Gee, and mentioning the guests, among whom 
were Increase and Cotton Mather, adds, " It seems it 
was in remembrance of his landing this day at Bos- 



* Middlesex Probate Files in MS. 

+ William Gilbert to Arthur Bridge, MS. 



250 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

ton, after his Algerine captivity. Had a good treat. 
Dr. Cotton Mather, in returning thanks, very well 
comprized many weighty things very pertinently." * 
Among the many weighty things very pertinently com- 
prized by this eminent divine, in returning thanks, it is 
hoped, was a condemnation of slavery. Surely he 
could not then have shrunk from giving utterance to 
that faith which preaches deliverance to the captive. 

But leaving the imperfect records of colonial days, 
I descend at once to that period, almost in the light of 
our own times, when our National Government, justly 
careful of the liberty of its white citizens, was aroused 
to exert all its power in their behalf. The war of the 
Revolution closed by the acknowledgment, in 1783, 
of the independence of the United States. The new 
national flag then freshly unfurled, and hardly known 
to the world, seemed to have little power to protect 
persons or property from the outrages of the Barbary 
States. Within three years, no less than ten Ameri- 
can vessels became their prey. At one time an appre- 
hension prevailed, that Dr. Franklin had been captured. 
" We are waiting," said one of his French correspon- 
dents, " with the greatest impatience to hear from you. 
The newspapers have given us anxiety on your ac- 
count; for some of them insist that you have been 
taken by the Algerines, while others pretend that you 
are at Morocco, enduring your slavery with all the pa- 
tience of a philosopher." t The property of our mer- 
chants was sacrificed or endangered. Insurance at 

* MS. Journal of Chief Justice Samuel Sewell. 
t Sparks's Works of Franklin, IX. 506, 507 ; X. 230. M. Le 
Veillard to Dr. Franklin, October 9, 1785. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 251 

Lloyd's, in London, could be had only at advanced 
prices; while it was difficult to obtain freight for Amer- 
ican bottoms.* The Mediterranean trade seemed closed 
to our enterprise. To a people filled with the spirit of 
commerce, and bursting with new life, this in itself was 
disheartening ; but the sufferings of our unhappy fellow- 
citizens, captives in a distant land, aroused a feeling of 
a higher strain. 

As from time to time the tidings of these things 
reached America, a voice of horror and indignation 
swelled through the land. The slave-corsairs of Afri- 
can Barbary were branded sometimes as " infernal 
crews," sometimes as " human harpies." f This senti- 
ment acquired new force, when, at two different periods, 
by the fortunate escape of several captives, what 
seemed to be an authentic picture of their condition 
was presented to the world. The story of these fugi- 
tives will show at once the hardships of their lot, and 
the foundation of the appeal which was soon made to 
the country with so much effect. 

The earliest of these escapes was in 1788, by a per- 
son originally captured in a vessel from Boston. At 
Algiers he had been, with the rest of the ship's company, 
exposed for sale at public auction, whence he was sent 
to the country-house of his master, about two miles 
from town. Here for the space of eighteen months he 
was chained to the wheelbarrow, and allowed only one 



* Boston Independent Chronicle, April 23, 1785, Vol. XVII. No. 
866 ; May 12, 1785, No. 868 ; Oct. 20, 1735, No. 886 ; Nov. 3, 1785, 
No. 888 ; Nov. 17, 1785, No. 890 ; March 2, 1786, Vol. XVIII. No. 
908; April 27, 1736, No. 918. 

+ Boston Independent Chronicle, May 18, I7S6, XVIII. No. 916; 
Sparks's Franklin, IX. 506, 507. 



252 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

pound of bread a day, during all which wretched period 
he had no opportunity of learning the fate of his com- 
panions. From the country he was removed to Algiers, 
where, in a numerous company of white slaves, he en- 
countered three of his shipmates, and twenty-six other 
Americans. After remaining for some time crowded 
together in the slave-prison, they were all distributed 
among the different galleys in the service of the Dey. 
Our fugitive, and eighteen other white slaves, were put 
on board a xebec, carrying eight six-pounders and sixty 
men, which, on the coast of Malta, encountered an 
armed vessel belonging to Genoa, and, after much blood- 
shed, was taken sword in hand. Eleven of the unfor- 
tunate slaves, compelled to this unwelcome service in 
the cause of a tyrannical master, were killed in the 
contest, before the triumph of the Genoese could deliver 
them from their chains. Our countryman and the few- 
still alive were at once set at liberty, and, it is said, 
" treated with that humanity which distinguishes the 
Christian from the barbarian." * 

His escape was followed in the next year by that of 
several others, achieved under circumstances widely 
different. They had entered, about five years before, 
on board a vessel belonging to Philadelphia, which was 
captured near the Western Islands, and carried into 
Algiers. The crew, consisting of twenty persons, were 
doomed to bondage. Several were sent into the coun- 
try and chained to work with the mules. Others were 
put on board a galley and chained to the oars. The 
latter, tempted by the facilities of their position near 

* Boston Independent Chronicle, Oct. 16, 1778, Vol. XX. No. 
1042 ; History of the War with Tripoli, p. 59. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 253 

the sea, made several attempts to escape, which, how- 
ever, for some time proved fruitless. At last the love 
of freedom triumphing over the suggestions of humanity, 
they rose upon their overseers ; some of whom they 
killed, and confined others. Then, seizing a small 
galley of their masters, they set sail for Gibraltar, where 
in a few hours they landed as freemen.* Thus by killing 
their keepers and carrying off property not their own, 
did these fugitive white slaves achieve their liberty. 

Such stories could not be recounted without producing 
a strong effect. The glimpses thus opened into the 
dread regions of slavery gave a harrowing reality to 
all that conjecture or imagination had pictured. It was, 
indeed, true, that our own while brethren, heirs to the 
freedom newly purchased by precious blood, partakers 
in the sovereignty of citizenship, belonging to the fel- 
lowship of the Christian church, were degraded in 
unquestioning obedience to an arbitrary taskmaster, sold 
as beasts of the field, and galled by the manacle and 
the lash ! It was true that they were held at specific fixed 
prices ; and that their only chance of freedom was to be 
found in the earnest, energetic, united efforts of their 
countrymen in their behalf. It is not easy to compre- 
hend the exact condition to which they were reduced. 
There is no reason to believe that it differed materially 
from that of other Christian captives in Algiers. The 
masters of vessels were lodged together, and indulged 
with a table by themselves, though a small iron ring 
was attached to one of their legs, to denote that they 
were slaves. The seamen were taught and obliged to 
work at the trade of carpenter, black-smhh and stone- 

* History of the War with Tripoli, p. 62. American Museum, 
Vol. VIII. Appendix. 



254 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

mason, from six o'clock in the morning till four o'clock 
in the afternoon, without intermission, except for half 
an hour at dinner. * Some of the details of their mode 
of life, as transmitted to us, are doubtless exaggerated. 
It is, however, sufficient to know that they were slaves ; 
nor is there any other human condition, which, when 
barely mentioned, even without one word of descrip- 
tion, so strongly awakens the sympathies of every just 
and enlightened lover of his race. 

With a view to secure their freedom, informal 
agencies were soon established under the direction of 
our minister at Paris ; and the Society of Redemption — 
whose beneficent exertions, commencing so early in 
modern history, were still continued — offered their aid 
in this behalf. Our agents were blandly entertained by 
that great slave-dealer, the Dey of Algiers, who in- 
formed them that he was familiar with the exploits of 
Washington, and, as he never expected to see him, ex- 
pressed a hope, that, through Congress, he might receive 
a full-length portrait of this hero of freedom, to be 
displayed in his palace at Algiei-s. He, however, still 
clung to his American slaves, holding them at prices 
beyond the means of the agents. These, in 1786, were 
$6,000 for a master of a vessel, $4,000 for a mate, 
$4,000 for a passenger, and $1,400 for a seaman; 
whereas the agents were authorized to offer only $200 
for each captive.t In 1790, the tariff of prices seems 
to have fallen. Meanwhile, one obtained his freedom 
through private means, others escaped, and others still 
were liberated by the great liberator death. The fol- 

* History of the War between the United Slates and Tripoli, p. 52, 
•f Lyman's Diplomacy. Vol. II. p. 353. 



HISTOKY — UNITED STATES. 



9.^;' 



lowing list, if not interesting from the names of the 
captives, will at least be curious as evidence of the 
sums demanded for them ifl the slave-market : * — 

Crew of the Ship Dolphin, of Philadelphia, cajHured 
July SOth, 1785. 

Sequins. 

Richard O'Brien, master, price demanded, 2,000 

Andrew Montgomery, mate, 1 ,500 

Jacob Tessanier, French passenger, 2,000 

William Patterson, seaman (keeps a tavern), 1,500 

Philip Sloan, " 725 

Peleg Loring, " 725 

John Robertson, " 725 

James Hall, " 725 

Crew of the Schooner Maria, of Boston, captured 
July 25th, 1785. 

Isaac Stevens, master (of Concord, Mass.,) 2,000 

Alexander Forsythe, mate, 1,500 

James Cathcart, seaman (keeps a tavern), 900 

George Smith, "'^ (in the Dey's house), 725 

John Gregory, " 725 

James Hermit, " 725 



10,475 

Duty on the above sum, ten per cent., 1,647^ 

Sundry gratifications to officers of the Dey's 

household, 2404 



This sum being equal to $34,792. 



Sequins 18,362| 



* Ibid., p. 357 ; History of the War with Tripoli., p. 64. 



256 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

In 1793, there were one hundred and fifteen Ameri- 
can slaves in Algiers. * Their condition excited the 
fraternal feeling of the whole people, while it occupied 
the anxious attention of Congress and the prayers of 
the clergy. A petition dated at Algiers, December 
29th, 1793, was addressed to the House of Representa- 
tives, by these unhappy persons, t " Your petitioners," 
it says, " are at present captives in this city of bondage, 
employed daily in the most laborious work, without any 
respect to persons. They pray that you will take their 
unfortunate situation into consideration, and adopt such 
measures as will restore the American captives to their 
country, their friends, families, and connections; and 
your petitioners will ever pray and be thankful." But 
the action of Congress was sluggish, compared with the 
swift desires of all lovers of freedom. 

Appeals of a different character, addressed to the 
country at large, were now commenced. These were 
efficiently aided by a letter to the American people, 
dated Lisbon, July 11th, 1794, from Colonel Hum- 
phreys, the friend and companion of Washington, and 
at that time our minister to Portugal. Taking advan- 
tage of the general interest in lotteries, and particularly 
of the custom, not then condemned, of resorting to 
these as a mode of obtaining money for literary or 
benevolent purposes, he suggested a grand lottery, 
sanctioned by the United States, or particular lotteries 
in the individual States, in order to obtain the means 
required to purchase the freedom of our countrymen. 
He then asks, " Is there within the limits of these United 
States an individual who will not cheerfully contribute 

* Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 359. t Ibid. p. 360. 



HISTORY — UNITED STATES. 257 

in proportion to his means, to carry it into effect ? By 
the peculiar blessings of freedom which you enjoy, by 
the disinterested sacrifices you made for its attainment, 
by the patriotic blood of those martyrs of liberty who 
died to secure your independence, and by all the tender 
ties of nature, let me conjure you once more to snatch 
your unfortunate countrymen from fetters, dungeons, 
and death." 

This appeal was followed shortly after by a petition 
from the American captives in Algiers, addressed to the 
ministers of the gospel of every denomination through- 
out the United States, praying their help in the sacred 
cause of Emancipation. It begins by an allusion to the 
day of national thanksgiving appointed by President 
Washington, and proceeds to ask the clergy to set apart 
the Sunday preceding that day for sermons, to be de- 
livered contemporaneously throughout the country, in 
behalf of their brethren in bonds.* 

" Reverend and Respected, — 

"On Thursday, the 19tli of February, 1795, you are en- 
joined by the President of the United States of America to 
appear in the various temples of that God who heareth the 
groaning of the prisoner, and in mercy remembereth those 
who are appointed to die. 

*' Nor are ye to assemble alone ; for on this, the high day 
of continental thanksgiving, all the religious societies and 
denominations throughout the Union, and all persons whom- 
soever within the limits of the confederated States, are to 
enter the courts of Jehovah, with their several pastors, and 
gratefully to render unfeigned thanks to the Ruler of nations 
for the manifold and signal mercies which distinguish your 

* History of the War with Trijjoli, pp. 69-71. 
VOL. I. 17 



258 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

lot as a people ; in a more particular manner, commemora- 
ting your exemption from foreign war ; being greatly thank- 
ful for the preservation of peace at home and abroad ; and 
fervently beseeching the kind Author of all these blessings 
graciously to prolong them to you, and finally to render the 
United States of America more and more an asylum for the 
unfortunate of every clime under heaven. 

" Recerend and Respected, — 

" Most fervent are our daily prayers, breathed in the sin- 
cerity of woes unspeakable ; most ardent are the embittered 
aspirations of our afflicted spirits, that thus it may be in deed 
and in truth. Although we are prisoners in a foreign land, 
although we are far, very far from our native homes, although 
our harps are hung upon the weeping willows of slavery, 
nevertheless America is still preferred above our chiefest joy, 
and the last wish of our departing souls shall be her peace, 
her prosperity, her liberty for ecer. On this day, the day of 
festivity and gladness, remember us, your unfortunate breth- 
ren late members of the family of freedom, now doomed to 
perpetual confinement. Pray, earnestly pray, that our griev- 
ous calamities may have a gracious end. Supplicate the Father 
of mercies for the most wretched of his offspring. Beseech 
the God of all consolation to comfort us by the hope of final 
restoration. Implore the Jesus ichom you icorship to open the 
house of the prison. Entreat the Christ whom you adore to 
let the miserable captices go free. 

" Reverend and Respected, — 

"It is not your prayers alone, although of much avail, 
which we beg on the bending knee of sufferance, galled by 
the corroding fetters of slavery. We conjure you by the 
bowels of the mercies of the Almighty, we ask you in the 
name of your Father in Heaven, to have compassion on our 
miseries, to wipe away the crystallized tears of despondence, 
to hush the heartfelt sigh of distress ; and by every possible 



HISTORY — UNITED STATES. 259 

exertion of godlike charity, to restore us to our wives, to our 
children, to our friends, to our God and to yours. 

" Is it possible that a stimulus can be wanting- 1 Forbid it, 
the example of a dying, bleeding, crucified Saviour ! Forbid 
it, the precepts of a risen, ascended, glorified Immanuel ! 
Do unto us in fetters, in bonds, in dungeons, in danger of the 
pestilence, as ye yoursehes ivould wish to he done unto. Lift 
up your voices like a trumpet ; cry aloud in the cause of hu- 
manity, benevolence, philosophy; eloquence can never be 
directed to a nobler purpose ; religion never employed in a more 
glorious cause ; charity never meditate a more exalted flight. 
O that a live coal from the burning altar of celestial benefi- 
cence might warm the hearts of the sacred order, and impas- 
sion the feelings of the attentive hearer ! 

'"'■Gentlemen of the Clergy in New Hampsldre, Rhode Island, 
Massachusetts, New York, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, — 
" Your most zealous exertions, your unremitting assidui- 
ties, are pathetically invoked. Those States in which you 
minister unto the Church of God gave us birth. We are as 
aliens from the commonwealth of America We are stran- 
gers to the temples of our God. The strong arm of infidelity 
hath bound us with two chains ; the iron one of slavery and 
the sword of death are entering our very souls. Arise ye 
ministers of the Most High, Christians of every denomination, 
awake unto charity ! Let a brief, setting forth our situation, 
be published throughout the continent. Be it read in every 
house of ivorship, on Sunday, the Sth of February. Com- 
mand a preparatory discourse to be delivered on Sunday, the 
loth of February ; in all churches whithersoever this petition 
or the brief may come / and on Thursday, the I9th of Febru- 
ary, complete the godlike icork. It is a day which assembles 
a continent to thanksgiving. It is a day which calls an em- 
pire to praise. God grant that this may be the day which 
emancipates the forlorn captive, and may the best blessings 
of those who are ready to perish be your abiding portion for 



260 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BAEBARY STATES. 

ever ! Thus prays a small remnant who are still alive ; thus 
pray your fellow-citizens, chained to the galleys of the im- 
postor Mahomet. 

" Signed for and in behalf of his fellow-sufferers, by 

" Richard O'Brien, 
" In the tenth year of his captivity." 

The cause, in which this document was written, will 
indispose the candid reader to any criticism of its some- 
what exuberant language. Like the drama of Cer- 
vantes, setting forth the horrors of the Galleys of 
Algiers, " it was not drawn from the imagination, but 
was born far from the regions of fiction, in the very 
heart of truth." Its earnest appeals were calculated to 
touch the soul, and to make the very name of slavery 
and slave-dealer detestable. 

And here I should do injustice to the truth of history, 
if I did not suspend for one moment the narrative of 
this Anti-Slavery movement, in order to exhibit the 
pointed parallels then extensively recognized between 
Algerine and American slavery. The conscientious 
man could not plead in behalf of the emancipation 
of his white fellow-citizens, without confessing in his 
heart, perhaps to the world, that every consideration, 
every argument, every appeal urged for the white man, 
told with equal force in behalf of his wretched colored 
brother in bonds. Thus the interest awakened for the 
slave in Algiers embraced also the slave at home. Some- 
times they were said to be alike in condition ; some- 
times, indeed, it was openly declared, that the horrors 
of our American slavery surpassed that of Algiers. 

John Wesley, the oracle of Methodism, addressing 



HISTORY 



UNITED STATES. 2GI 



those engaged in tlie negro slave-trade, said as early as 
1772, " You have carried the survivors into the vilest 
of slavery, never to end but wil h life — such slavery 
as is not found among the Turks at Algiers^* And 
another writer in 1794, when the sympathy with the 
American captives was at its height, presses the parallel 
in pungent terms : " For this practice of buying 
and selling slaves," he says, " we are not entitled to 
charge the Algerines with any exclusive degree of bar- 
barity. The Christians of Europe and America carry 
on this commerce one hundred times more extensively 
than the Alserines. It has received a recent sanction 
from the immaculate Divan of Britain. Nobody seems 
even to be surprised by a diabolical kind of advertise- 
ments, which, for some months past, have frequently 
adorned the newspapers of Philadelphia. The French 
fugitives from the West Indies have brought with them 
a crowd of slaves. These most injured people some- 
times run off, and their master advertises a reward for 
apprehending them. At the same time, we are com- 
monly informed that his sacred name is marked in 
capitals on their breasts ; or, in plainer terms, it is 
stamped on that part of the body with a red-hot iron. 
Before, therefore, we reprobate the ferocity of the 
Algerines, we should inquire whether it is not possible 
to find in some other region of this globe a systematic 
brutality still more disgraceful." t 

Not long after the address to the clergy by the cap- 
tives in Algiers, a publication appeared in New Hamp- 
shire, entitled " Tyrannical Libertymen, a Discourse 
. •■ — — 

* Wesley's Thoughts on Slavery (1772) p. 26. 

t Short account of Algiers, (Philadelphia, 1794,) p. IS. 



262 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

upon Negro Slavery in the United States, composed at 
in New Hampshire on the late Federal Thanks- 
giving Day," * which does not hesitate to brand Ameri- 
can slavery in terms of glowing reprobation. " There 
was a contribution upon this day," it says, " for the 
purpose of redeeming those Americans who are in 
slavery at Algiers, — an object worthy of a generous 
people. Their redemption, we hope, is not far distant. 
But should any person contribute money for this pur- 
pose, which he had cudgelled out of a negro slave, he 
would deserve less applause than an actor in the comedy 

of Las Casas When will Americans show 

that they are what they affect to be thought, — friends 
to the cause of humanity at large, reverers of the rights 
of their fellow-creatures ? Hitherto we have been op- 
pressors ; nay, murderers ! for many a negro has died 
by the whip of his master, and many have lived when 
death would have been preferable. Surely the curse 
of God and the reproach of man is against us. Worse 
than the seven plagues of Egypt will befall us. If 
Algiers shall be punished sevenfold, truly America 
seventy and sevenfold." 

To the excitement of this discussion we are indebted 
for the story of " The Algerine Captive ; " a work to 
which, though now forgotten, belongs the honor of 
being among the earliest literary productions of our 
country reprinted in London, at a time when few 
American books were known abroad. It was published 
anonymously, but is known to have been written by 
Royall Tyler, afterwards Chief Justice of Vermont. 
In the form of a narrative of personal adventures, ex- 

* From the Eagle Office, Hanover, New Hampshire, 1795. 



HISTORY — UNITED STATES. 263 

tending through two volumes, as a slave in Algiers, the 
author depicts the horrors of this condition. In this 
regard it is not unlike the story of " Archy Moore," in 
our own day, displaying the horrors of American 
slavery. The author, while engaged as surgeon on 
board a ship in the African slave-trade is taken captive 
by the Algerines. After describing the reception of 
the poor negroes, he says : — "I cannot reflect on this 
transaction yet, without shuddering. I have deplored 
my conduct with tears of anguish ; and I pray a mer- 
ciful God, the Common Parent of the great family of 
the universe, who hath made of one flesh and one 
blood all nations of the earth, that the miseries, the 
insults, and cruel woundings I afterwards received, 
when a slave myself, may expiate for the inhumanity I 
was necessitated to exercise towards these my brethren 
of the human race."* And when at length he is him- 
self made captive by the Algerines, he records his 
meditations and resolves. " Grant me," he says, from 
the depths of his own misfortune, " once more to 
taste the freedom of my native country, and every 
moment of my life shall be dedicated to preaching 
against this detestable commerce. I will fly to our fel- 
low-citizens in the Southern States ; I will, on my knees, 
conjure them, in the name of humanity, to abolish a 
traffic which causes it to bleed in every pore. If they 
are deaf to the pleadings of nature, I will conjure them, 
for the sake of consistency, to cease to deprive their 
fellow-creatures of freedom, which their writers, their 
orators, representatives, senators, and even their consti- 



* Chap. XXX. 



264 AVHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

tutions of government, have declared to be the unaUen- 
able birthright of man." * 

But this comparison was presented, not merely in the 
productions of literature, or in fugitive essays. It 
was distinctly set forth, on an important occasion, in the 
diplomacy of our country, by one of her most illustrious 
citizens Complaint had been made against England, 
for carrying away from New York certain negroes, in 
alleged violation of the treaty of 1T83. In an elaborate 
paper discussing this matter, John Jay, at that time, un- 
der the Confederation, Secretary for Foreign Affairs, 
says, " Whether men can be so degraded as, under any 
circumstances, to be with propriety denominated goods 
and chattels, and under that idea capable of becoming 
booty, is a question on which opinions are unfortunately 
various, even in countries professing Christianity and 
respect for the rights of mankind." He then proceeds, 
in words worthy of special remembrance at this time : 
" If a war should take place between France and 
Algiers, and in the course of it France should invite 
the American slaves there to run away from their mas- 
ters, and actually receive and protect them in their 
camp, what would Congress, and indeed the world, 
think and say of France, if, in making peace with 
Algiers, she should give up those American slaves to 
their former Algerine masters ? Is there any difference 
between the tioo cases than this, viz. that the American 
slaves at Algiers are white people, whereas the Afri- 
can slaves at New York were black people ? " In 
introducing these sentiments, the Secretary remarks: 

* Chap, xxxii. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 205 

" He is aware he is about to say unpopular things ; 
but higher motives than personal considerations press 
him to proceed." * Words worthy of John Jay ! 

The same comparison was also presented by the 
Abolition Society of Pennsylvania, in an Address in 
17S7, to the Convention which framed the Federal 
Constitution. " Providence," it says, " seems to have 
ordained the sufferings of our American brethren, 
groaning in captivity at Algiers, to awaken us to a 
sentiment of the injustice and cruelty of which we are 
guilty towards the wretched Africans."! Shortly after- 
wards it was again brought forward by Dr. Franklin, 
in an ingenious apologue, marked by his peculiar hu- 
mor, simplicity, logic, and humanity. As President 
of the same Abolition Society, which had already 
addressed the Convention, he signed a memorial to the 
earliest Congress under the Constitution, praying it " to 
countenance the restoration of liberty to those unhappy 
men, who alone, in tiiis land of freedom, are degraded 
into perpetual bondage ; and to step to the very verge 
of the power vested in them for discouraghig every 
species of traffic in the persons of our fellow-men." In 
the debates which ensued on the presentation of this 
memorial, — memorable not only for its intrinsic im- 
portance as a guide to the country, but as the final pub- 
lic act of one of the chief founders of our national insti- 
tutions — several attempts were made to justify slavery 
and the slave-trade. The last and almost dying ener- 
gies of Franklin were excited. In a remarkable docu- 
ment, written only twenty-four days before his death, 

* Secret Journals of Congress, 1786, Vol. IV. pp. 274-280. 
+ Brissot's Travels, Vol. I. Letter 22. 



266 AVHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

and published in the journals of the time, he gave a 
parody of a speech actually delivered in the American 
Congress, — transferring the scene to Algiers, and 
putting the American speech in the mouth of a corsair 
slave-dealer, in the Divan at that place, in opposition to 
a petition, from a sect called Purists, or Abolitionists, for 
the abolition of piracy and slavery. All the arguments 
adduced in favor of negro slavery are applied by the 
Algerine orator with equal force to justify the plunder 
and enslavement of whites.* With this protest against 
a great wrong, Franklin died. 

Most certainly we shall be aided, at least in our ap- 
preciation of American slavery, when we know that it 
was likened by characters like Wesley, Jay and Frank- 
lin, to the abomination of slavery in Algiers. But 
whatever may have been the influence of this parallel 
on the condition of the black slaves, it did not check 
the rising sentiments of the people against White 
Slavery. 

The country was now aroused. A general contri- 
bution was proposed for the emancipation of our breth- 
ren. Their cause was pleaded in churches, and not 
forgotten at the festive board. At all public celebra- 
tions, the toasts, " Happiness for all," and " Universal 
Liberty," were proposed, not less in sympathy with the 
efforts for freedom in France, than with those for our 
own wretched wliite fellow-countrymen in bonds. On 
at least one occasion,! they were distinctly remembered 

* Sparks's Franklin, Vol. II. 517. 

■f At Portsmouth, N. H., at a public entertainment, April 3d, 
1795, in honor of French successes. — Boston Independent Chroni- 
cle, Vol. XXVII. No. i4C9. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 267 

in the following toast: — " Our brethren in slavery at 
Algiers. May the measures adopted for their redemp- 
tion be successful, and may they live to rejoice with 
their friends in the blessings of liberty." 

Meanwhile, the earnest efforts of our government 
were continued. In his message to Congress, bearing 
date December 8th, 1795, President Washington said : 
" With peculiar satisfaction I add, that information has 
been received from an agent deputed on our part to 
Algiers, importing that the terms of the treaty with the 
Dey and regency of that country have been adjusted in 
such a manner as to authorize the expectation of a 
speedy peace, and the restoration of our unfortunate 
fellow-citizens from a grievous captivity." This, in- 
deed, had been already effected on the 5th of Septem- 
ber, 1795.* It was a treaty full of humiliation for the 
chivalry of our country. Besides securing to the Alge- 
rine government a large sum, in consideration of pres- 
ent peace and the liberation of the captives, it stipu- 
lated for an annual tribute from the United States of 
twenty-one thousand dollars. But feelings of pride dis- 
appeared in heartfelt satisfaction. It is recorded, that 
a thrill of joy went through the land when it was an- 
nounced that a vessel had left Algiers, having on board 
all the Americans who had been in captivity there- 
Their emancipation was purchased at the cost of up- 
wards of seven hundred thousand dollars. But the 
largess of money, and even the indignity of tribute, 
were forgotten in gratulations on their new-found hap- 
piness. The President, in a message to Congress, De- 

* United States Statutes at Large (Little & Brown's edit.), Trea- 
ties, Vol.VlIL p. 133 ; Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. IL p. 3C2. 



26S WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

cember 7th, 1796, presented their " actual hberation" 
as a special subject of joy " to every feeling heart " 
Thus did our governnrient construct a Bridge of Gold 
for freedom. 

This act of national generosity was followed by 
peace with Tripoli, purchased November 4th, 1796, for 
the sum of fifty thousand dollars, under the guaranty 
of the Dey of Algiers, who was declared to be " the 
mutual friend of the parties." By an article in this 
treaty, negotiated by Joel Barlow, — out of tenderness, 
perhaps, to Mahomedanism, and to save our citizens 
from the slavery which was regarded as the just doom 
of " Christian dogs," — it was expressly declared that 
" the government of the United States of America is 
not in any sense founded on the Christian religion." * 
At a later day, by a treaty with Tunis, purchased after 
some delay, but at a smaller price than that with 
Tripoli, all danger to our citizens seemed to be averted. 
In this treaty it was ignominiously provided, that fugi- 
tive slaves, taking refuge on board American merchant 
vessels, and even vessels of war, should be restored to 
their owners.t 

As early as 1787, a treaty of a more liberal character 
had been entered into \vith Morocco, which was con- 
firmed in 1795,t at the price of twenty thousand dollars; 



* Article II ; Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. pp. 330,381 ; United 
Slates Statutes at Large, Vol. VIII. p. 154. 

t Article 6; United States Statutes at Large, Vol. VIII. p. 157. 
This treaty has two dates, August, 1797, and March, 1799. William 
Eaton and James Leander Calhcari were the agents of the United 
States at the latter date. 

t Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 350 ; United States Statutes at 
Large, Vol, VIII. p. 100. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 269 

while, by a treaty with Spain, in 1799, this slave-trad- 
ing empire expressly declared its desire that the name 
of slavery might he effaced from the memory of man. "^ 

But these governments were barbarous, faithless, and 
regardless of the duties of humanity and justice. Trea- 
ties with them were evanescent. As in the days of 
Charles the Second, they seemed made merely to be 
broken. They were observed only so long as money 
was derived under their stipulations. Our growing 
commerce was soon again fatally vexed by the Bar- 
bary corsairs, who now compelled even the ships of 
our navy to submit to peculiar indignities. In l!"01, 
the Bey of Tripoli formally declared war against the 
United States, and in token thereof " our flag-staff 
[before the consulate] was chopped down six feet 
from the ground, and left reclining on the terrace." t 
Our citizens once more became the prize of man-steal- 
ers. Colonel Humphreys, now at home in retirement, 
was aroused. In an address to the public, he called 
again for united action, saying, — "Americans of the 
United States, your fellow-citizens are in fetters ! Can 
there be but one feeling ? Where are the gallant re- 
mains of the race who fought for freedom ? Where 
the glorious heirs of their patriotism ? Will there 
neccr he a truce hetween political parties 7 Or must 
it for ever he the fate of Free States, that the soft 
voice of union should he drowned in the hoarse clamors 
of discord 7 No ! Let every friend of blessed hu- 
manity and sacred freedom entertain a better hope and 



* History of the War with Tripoli, p. 80. 
t Lyman's Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 384. 



270 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

confidence." * Col. Humphreys was not a statesman 
only ; he was known as a poet also. And in this 
character he made another appeal to his country. In 
a poem on " The Future Glory of the United States," 
he breaks forth into an indignant condemnation of 
slavery, which, whatever may be the merits of its verse, 
should not be omitted here. 

Teach me curst slavery's cruel woes to paint, 
Beneaih whose weight our captured freemen faint ! 
***** 
Where am I ! Heavens ! what mean these dolorous cries ? 
And what these horrid scenes that round me rise ? 
Heard ye the groans, those messengers of pain ? 
Heard ye the clanking of the captive's chain ? 
Heard ye your freeborn sons their fate deplore. 
Pale in their chains and laboring at the oar ? 
Saw ye the dungeon, in whose blackest cell. 
That house of woe, your friends, your children, dwell ? — 
Or saw ye those who dread the torturing hour, 
Crushed by the rigors of a tyrant's power ? 
Saw ye the shrinking- slave, the ■uplifted lash, 
The frowning butcher, and the reddening gash 7 
Saw ye the fresh blood ichere it bubbling broke 
From purple scars, beneath the grinding stroke ? 
Saic ye the naked limbs icrithcd to and fro, 
In wild contortions of convulsing icoe ? 
Felt ye the blood, with pangs alternate rolled. 
Thrill through j'our veins and freeze with deathlike cold, 
Or fire, as dov/n the tear of pity stole. 
Your manly breasts, and harrow up the soul?t 

The people and government responded to this voice. 
And here commenced those early deeds by which our 
navy became known in Europe. The frigate Phila- 
delphia, through a reverse of shipwreck rather than 

* Miscellaneous Works of David Humphreys, p. 75. 
t Ibid. pp. 52, 53. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 271 

war, falling into the hands of the Tripolitans, was by a 
daring act of Decatur burnt under the guns of the 
enemy. Other feats of hardihood ensued. A romantic 
expedition by General Eaton, from Alexandria, in 
Egypt, across the desert of Libya, captured Derne. 
Three several times Tripoli was attacked, and, at last, 
on the 3d of June, 1805, entered into a treaty, by which 
it was stipulated that the United States should pay 
sixty thousand dollars for the freedom of two hundred 
American slaves ; and that, in the event of future war 
between the two countries, prisoners should not be re- 
duced to slavery, but should be exchanged rank for 
rank ; and if there were any deficiency on either side, 
it should be made up by the payment of five hundred 
Spanish dollars for each captain, three hundred dollars 
for each mate and supercargo, and one hundred dollars 
for each seaman.* Thus did our country, after suc- 
cesses not without what is called the glory of arms, 
again purchase by money the emancipation of her 
white citizens. 

The power of Tripoli was, however, inconsiderable. 
That of Algiers was more formidable. It is not a little 
curious, that the largest ship of this slave-trading state 
was the Crescent, of thirty-four guns, built in New 
Hampshire ; t though it is hardly to the credit of our 
sister Slate that the Algerine power derived such im- 
portant support from her. The lawlessness of the 
corsair again broke forth by the seizure, in 1812, of the 
brig Edwin of Salem, and the enslavement of her 

* United States Statutes at Large, Vol. VIII. p. 214; Lyman's 
Diplomacy, Vol. II. p. 388. 
t History of the War between the United Slates and Tripoli, p. 88. 



272 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

crew. All the energies of the country were at this 
time enlisted in war with Great Britain ; but, even 
amidst the anxieties of this gigantic contest, the voice of 
these captives was heard, awakening a corresponding 
sentiment throughout the land, until the government 
was prompted to seek their release. Through Mr. 
Noah, recently appointed consul at Tunis, it offered to 
purchase their freedom at three thousand dollars a 
head.* The answer of the Dey, repeated on several 
occasions, was, that " not for two millions of dollars 
would he sell his American slaves." t The timely 
treaty of Ghent, in 1815, establishing peace with Great 
Britain, left us at liberty to deal with this enslaver of 
our countrymen. A naval force was promptly dis- 
patched to the Mediterranean, under Commodore Bain- 
bridge and Commodore Decatur. The rapidity of their 
movements and their striking success had the desired 
effect. In June, 1815, a treaty was extorted from the 
Dey of Algiers, by which, after abandoning all claim 
to tribute in any form, he delivered his American cap- 
tives, ten in number, without any ransom ; and stipula- 
ted, that hereafter no Americans should be made slaves 
or forced to hard labor, and still further, that " any 
Christians whatever, captives in Algiers," making their 
escape and taking refuge on board an American ship 
of war, should be safe from all requisition or reclama- 
tion, t 



* Noah's Travels, p. 69. 

t Noah's Travels, p. 144 ; National Intelligencer of March 7, 
1815. 

t United States Statutes at Large, Vol. VIII. p. 224 ; Lyman's 
Diplomacj^, Vol. II. p. 376. 



HISTORY UNITED STATES. 273 

It is related of Decatur, that he walked his deck 
with impatient earnestness, awaiting the promised sig- 
nature of the treaty. " Is the treaty signed ? " he 
cried to the captain of the port and the Swedish consul, 
as they reached the Guerriere with a white flag of 
truce. " It is," replied the Swede ; and the treaty was 
placed in Decatur's hands. " Are the prisoners in the 
boat ? " " They are." " Every one of them ? " " Every 
one. Sir." The captive Americans now came forward 
to greet and bless their deliverer.* Surely this mo- 
ment — when he looked upon his emancipated fellow- 
countrymen, and thought how much he had contributed 
to overthrow the relentless system of bondage under 
which they had groaned — must have been one of the 
sweetest in the life of that hardy son of the sea. But 
should I not say, even here, that there is now a citizen 
of Massachusetts, who, without army or navy, by a 
simple act of self-renunciation, has given freedom to a 
larger number of Christian American slaves than was 
done by the sword of Decatur ? 

Thus, not by money, but by arms, was emancipation 
this time secured. The country was grateful for the 
result ; though the poor freedmen, engulfed in the un- 
known wastes of ocean, on their glad passage home, 
were never able to mingle joys with their fellow-citi- 
zens. They were lost in the Epervier, of which no 
trace has ever appeared. Nor did the people feel the 
melancholy mockery in the conduct of the government, 
which, having weakly declared that it " was not in any 
sense founded on the Christian religion," now expressly 



* Mackenzie's Life of Decatur, p. 26S. 
18 



274 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

confined the protecting power of its flag to fugitive 
" Christians, captives in Algiers," leaving slaves of 
another faith to be snatched as between the horns of 
the altar, and returned to the continued horrors of their 
lot. 

The success of the American arms was followed 
speedily by a more signal triumph of Great Britain, 
acting generously in behalf of all the Christian powers. 
Her expedition was debated, perhaps prompted, in the 
Congress of Vienna, where, after the overthrow of 
Napoleon, the brilliant representatives of the different 
states of Europe, in the presence of the monarchs of 
Austria, Prussia, and Russia, were assembled to con- 
sider the evils proper to be remedied by joint action, 
and to adjust the disordered balance of empire. Among 
many high concerns, here entertained, was the project 
of a crusade against the Barbary States, in order to 
accomplish the complete abolition of Christian slaveiy 
there practised. For this purpose, it was proposed to 
form " a holy league." This was earnestly enforced 
by a memoir from Sir Sidney Smith, the same who 
foiled Napoleon at Acre, and who at this time was 
president of an association called the " Knights Libera- 
tors of the White Slaves in Africa," — in our day it 
might be called an Abolition Society, — thus adding to 
the doubtful laurels of war the true glory of striving 
for the freedom of his fellow-men.* 

* Memoire sur la Necessite et les Moyens de faire cesser les 
Pirateries des Etals Barbaresques. Re^u, considere, et adopte a 
Paris en Septembre, a Turin le 14 Octobre, 1814, a Vienne durant le 
Congres. Par M. Sidney Smith. See Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. 
p. 140, where this is noticed. Schoell, Histoire des Tiailes de 
Pais, Tome XL p. 402. 



HISTORY ITS ABOLITION. 275 

This project, though not adopted by the Congress, 
awakened a generous echo in the public mind. Vari- 
ous advocates appeared in its behalf; and what the Con- 
gress failed to undertake was now especially urged upon 
Great Britain, by the agents of Spain and Portugal, 
who insisted, that, hecause this nation had abolished the 
negro slave-trade, it was her duty to put an end to the 
slavery of the whites* 

A disgraceful impediment seemed at first to interfere. 
There was a common belief that the obstructions of 
the Barbary States, in the navigation of the Mediterra- 
nean, were advantageous to British commerce, by 
thwarting and strangling that of other countries ; and 
that therefore Great Britain, ever anxious for commer- 
cial supremacy, would rather encourage them, than 
seek their overthrow, — the love of trade prevailing 
over the love of man. t This suggesstion of a sordid 
selfishness, v.-hich was willing to coin money out of the 
lives and liberties of fellow-christians, was soon an- 
swered. 

At the beginning of the year 1816, Lord Exmouth, 
who, as Sir Edward Pellew, had already acquired dis- 
tinction in the British navy, was dispatched with a 
squadron to Algiers. By his general orders, bearing 
date, Boyne, Port Mahon, March 21, 1816, he an- 
nounced the object of his expedition as follows : — 

* Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXVI. p. 451 ; Osier's Life of Ex- 
moulh, p. .?02 ; Mackenzie's Life of Decatur, p. 263. 

t Quarterly Review, Vol. XV, p. 145 ; Edinburgh Review, Vol. 
XXVL p. 449, noticing " A Letter to a Member of Parliament, on 
the Slavery of the Christians at Algiers. By Walter Croker, Esq., 
of the Royal Navy. London, 1816." Schoell, Trailes de Paix, 
Tom. XL p. 402. 



276 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

" He has been instructed and directed by his Royal 
Highness, the Prince Regent, to proceed with the fleet 
to Algiers, and there make certain arrangements Jor 
diminishing^ at leasts the piratical excursions of the 
Barbary States, hy which thousands of our felloiv-crea- 
iures, innocently following their commercial pursuits^ 
have heen dragged into the most wretched and revolting 
state of slavery. 

" The commander-in-chief is confident that this out- 
rageous system of 'piracy and slavery rouses in common 
the same spirit of indignation which he himself feels ; 
and should the government of Algiers refuse the rea- 
sonable demands he bears from the Prince Regent, he 
doubts not but the flag will be honorably and zealously 
supported by every officer and man under his command, 
in his endeavors to procure the acceptation of them by 
force; and if force must be resorted to, we have the 
consolation of knowing that we fight in the sacred cause 
of humanity, and cannot fail of success^ * 

The moderate object of his mission was readily ob- 
tained. " Arrangements for diminishing the piratical 
excursions of the Barbary States" were established. 
Certain Ionian slaves, claimed as British subjects, were 
released, and peace was secured for Naples and Sar- 
dinia, — the former paying a ransom of five hundred 
dollars, and the latter of three hundred dollars, a head, 
for their subjects liberated from bondage. This was at 
Algiers. Lord Exmouth next proceeded to Tunis and 
Tripoli, where, acting beyond his instructions, he ob- 
tained from both these piratical governments a promise 



* Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 297. 



HISTORY — ITS ABOLITION. 277 

to abolish Christian slavery within their dominions. In 
one of his letters on this event, he says that, in pressing 
these concessions, he " acted solely on his own respon- 
sibility and without orders ; the causes and reasoning 
on which, upon general principles, may be defensible ; 
but, as applying to our own country, may not be borne 
out, the old mercantile interest being against it^ * A 
similar distrust had been excited in another age by a 
similar achievement. Admiral Blake, in the time of 
Cromwell, after his attack upon Tunis, writing to his 
government at home, said, " and now, seeing it hath 
pleased God soe signally to justify us herein, I hope his 
highness will not be offended at it, nor any who regard 
duly the honor of our nation, although I expect to have 
the clamors of interested men.'*'' t Thus more than 
once in the history of these efforts to abolish White 
Slavery, did commerce, the daughter of freedom, fall 
under the foul suspicion of disloyalty to her parent ! 

Lord Exmouth did injustice to the moral sense of 
his country. His conduct was sustained and applaud- 
ed, not only in the House of Commons, but by the 
public at large. He was soon directed to return to 
Algiers, — which had failed to make any general re- 
nunciation of the custom of enslaving Christians, — to 
extort by force such a stipulation. This expedition is 
regarded by British historians with peculiar pride. In 
all the annals of their triumphant navy, there is none in 
which the barbarism of war seems so much " to smooth 
its wrinkled front." With a fleet complete at all points, 
the Admiral set sail July 25th, 1816, on what was 

* Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 303. 

t Thurloe's Stale Papers, Vol. II. p. 390. 



278 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

deemed a holy war. With five hne-of-battle ships, 
five heavy frigates, four bomb-vessels, and five gun- 
brigs, besides a Dutch fleet of five frigates and a cor- 
vette, under Admiral Van de Capellan, — who, on learn- 
ing the object of the expedition, solicited and obtained 
leave to cooperate — on the 2Tth of August, he an- 
chored before the formidable fortifications of Algiers. 
It would not be agreeable or instructive to dwell on the 
scene of desolation and blood which ensued. Before 
night the fleet fired, besides shells and rockets, one 
hundred and eighteen tons of powder, and fifty thou- 
sand shot, weighing more than five hundred tons. The 
citadel and massive batteries of Algiers were shattered 
and crumbled to ruins. The store-houses, ships, and 
gun-boats were in flames, while the blazing lightnings 
of battle were answered, in a storm of signal fury, by 
the lightnings of heaven. The power of the Great 
Slave-dealer was humbled. 

The terms of submission were announced to his fleet 
by the admiral in an order, dated. Queen Charlotte, 
Algiers Bay, August 30th, 1816, which may be read 
with truer pleasure than any in military or naval his- 
tory. 

" The commander-in-chief," he said, " is happy to 
inform the fleet of the final termination of their stren- 
uous exertions, by the signature of peace, confirmed 
under a salute of twenty-one guns, on the following 
conditions, dictated by his Koyal Higness, the Prince 
Regent of England. 

" First. The abolition of Christian slavery for 

EVER. 

" Second. The delivery to myjlag of all slaves in the 



HISTORY ITS ABOLITION. 



279 



dominions of the Dey, to wliatevcr nation they may be- 
longs at noon to-morrow. 

" Third. To deliver also to my flag all money re- 
ceived by him for the redemption of slaves since the 
commencement of this year, at noon also to-morrow." 

On the next day, twelve hundred slaves were eman- 
cipated, making, with those liberated in his earlier ex- 
pedition, more than three thousand, whom, by address 
or force. Lord Exmouth had delivered from bondage.* 

Thus ended White Slavery in the Barbary States. 
It had already died out in Morocco. It had been quietly 
renounced by Tripoli and Tunis. Its last retreat was 
Algiers, whence it was driven amidst the thunder of 
the British cannon. 

Signal honors now awaited the Admiral. He was 
elevated to a new rank in the peerage, and on his coat- 
of-arms was emblazoned a figure never before known 
in heraldry, — a Christian slave holding aloft the cross 
and dropping his broken fetters.f From the oflScers 
of the squadron he received a costly service of plate, 
with an inscription, in testimony of " the memorable 
victory gained at Algiers, where the great cause of 
Christian freedom was bravely fought and nobly ac- 
complished.'''''^ But higher far than honor were the 
rich personal satisfactions which he derived from con- 
templating the nature of the cause in which he had 
been enlisted. In his despatch to the government, de- 
scribing the battle, and written at the time, he says, in 
words which may be felt by others, engaged, like him, 

* Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 334 ; British Annual Register (1816), 
Vol. LVIII. pp. 97 - 106 ; Shaler's Sketches, pp. 279 - 294. 
t Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 340. t Ibid. p. 342. 



280 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

in efforts for the overthrow of slavery, — " In all the 
vicissitudes of a long life of public service, no circum- 
stance has ever produced on my mind such impres- 
sions of gratitude as the event of yesterday. To have 
haen one of the humble instruments in the hands of 
Divine Providence f 01^ bringing to reason a ferocious 
government^ and destroying forever the insufferable 
and horrid system of Christian slavery^ can never cease 
to he a source of delight and heartfelt comfort to every 
individual happy enough to be employed in it.''"' * 

The reverses of Algiers did not end here. Chris- 
tian slavery was abolished ; but, in 1830, the insolence 
of this barbarian government aroused the vengeance of 
France to take military possession of the whole coun- 
try. Algiers capitulated, the Dey abdicated, and this 
considerable state became a French colony. 

Thus I have endeavored to present what I could 
glean in various fields on the history of Christian 
Slavery in the Barbary States. I have often employed 
the words of others, as they seemed best calculated 
to convey the exact idea of the scene, incident, or 
sentiment which I wished to preserve. So doing, I 
have occupied much time ; but I may find my apol- 
ogy in the words of an English chronicler.t " Algier," 
he says, " were altogether unworthy so long a dis- 
course, were not the unworthinesse worthy our con- 
sideration. I meane the cruell abuse of the Christian 
name, which let us for inciting our zeale and exciting 

* Osier's Life of Exmouth, p. 432 ; Shaler's Sketches of Algiers, 
p. 332. 
+ Purchas's PilgrimSj Vol. II. p. 1565. 



ITS TRUE CHARACTER. 281 

our charitie and thankfulness more deeply weigh, to 
releeve those in miseries, as we may, with our paynes, 
prayers, purses, and all the best meditations." 

III. It is by a natural transition that I am now con- 
ducted to the inquiry into the true character of the 
evil whose history has been traced. And here I shall 
be brief. 

The slavery of Christians by the Barbary States is 
regarded as an unquestionable outrage upon humaniiy 
and justice. Nobody hesitates in this judgment. Our 
liveliest sympathies attend these white brethren, — torn 
from their homes, the ties of family and friendship 
rudely severed, parent separated from child and hus- 
band from wife, exposed at public sale like cattle, and 
dependent, like cattle, upon the uncertain will of an 
arbitrary taskmaster. We read of a " gentleman " 
who was compelled to be the valet of the barbarian 
emperor of Morocco ; * and Calderon, the pride of the 
Spanish stage, has depicted the miserable fate of a 
Portuguese prince, condemned by infidel Moors to 
carry water in a garden But the lowly in condition 
had their unrecorded sorrows also, whose sum total 
must swell to a fearful amount. Who can tell how 
many hearts have been wrung by the pangs of separa- 
tion, how many crushed by the comfortless despair of 
interminable bondage .? " Speaking as a Christian," 
says the good Catholic father who has chronicled much 
of this misery, " if on the earth there can be any con- 
dition which, in its character and evils, may represent 

* Braithwaite's Revolutions of Morocco, p. 233 ; Noah's Travels, 
p. 367. 



282 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

in any manner the dolorous Passion of the Son of God 
(which exceeded all evils and torments, because by it 
the Lord suffered every kind of evil and affliction), it is, 
beyond question and doubt, none other than slavery 
and captivity in Algiers and Barbary, whose infinite 
evils, terrible torments, miseries without number, afflic- 
tions without mitigation, it is impossible to compre- 
hend in a brief span of time," * When we consider 
the author's character, as a father of the Catholic Church, 
it will be felt that language can no further go. 

In nothing are the impiety and blasphemy of this 
custom more apparent, than in the auctions of human 
beings, where men were sold to the highest bidder. 
Through the personal experience of a young English 
merchant, Abraham Brown, afterwards a settler in Mas- 
sachusetts, we may learn how these were conducted. 
In 1655, before the liberating power of Cromwell had 
been acknowledged, he was captured together with a 
whole crew, and carried into Sallee. His own words, 
in his memoirs still preserved, will best tell his story. t 
'• On landing," he says, " an exceeding great company 
of most dismal spectators were led to behold us in our 
captivated condition. There was liberty for all sorts 
to come and look on us, that whosoever had a mind to 
buy any of us on the day appointed for our sale to- 
gether in the market, might see, as I may say, what 

* Haedo, Hisloria, p. 139, 140. Besides the illustrations of the 
hardships of While Slavery already introduced, I refer briefly to the 
following : — Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXVI. pp. 452 - 454 ; Cro- 
ker's Letter, pp. 11-13; Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. p. 145; 
Eaton's Life, p. 100 ; Noah's Travels, p. 366. 

+ MS. Memoirs. 



ITS TRUE CHARACTER. 283 

they would like to have for their money ; whereby we 
had too many comfortless visitors, both from the town 
and country, one saying he would buy this man, and 
the other that. To comfort us we were told by the 
Christian slaves already there, if we met with such and 
such patrons, our usage would not be so bad as as we 
supposed ; though, indeed, our men found the usage 
of the best bad enough. Fresh victuals and bread were 
supplied, I suppose to feed us up for the market, that 
we might be in some good plight against the day we 
were to be sold. And now I come to speak of our 
being sold into this doleful slavery. It was doleful in 
respect to the time and manner. As to the time, it 
was on our Sabbath day, in the morning, about the 
time the people of God were about to enjoy the liberty 
of God's house ; this was the time our bondage was 
confirmed. Again it was sad in respect to the manner 
of our selling. Being all of us brought into the mar- 
ket-place, we were led about, two or three at a time, in 
the midst of a great concourse of people, both from the 
town and country, who had a full sight of us, and if 
that did not satisfy, they would come and feel of your 
hand, and look into your mouth to see whether you 
are sound in health, or to see, by the hardness of your 
hand, wdiether you have been a laborer or not. The 
manner of buying is this : He that bids the greatest 
price hath you ; they bidding one upon another until 
the highest has you for a slave, whoever he is, or wher- 
ever he dwells. As concerning myself, being brought 
to the market in the weakest condition of any of our 
men, I was led forth among the cruel multitude to be 
sold. As yet being undiscovered what I was, I was 



284 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARi^ STATES. 

like to have been sold at a very low rate, not above 
£lb sterling, whereas our ordinary seamen were sold 
for £'S0 and £35 sterling, and two boys were sold for 
c£40 a-piece ; and being in this sad posture led up and 
down at least one hour and an half, during which time 
a Dutchman, that was our carpenter, discovered me to 
some Jews, they increased from ^15 to £15, which 
was the price my patron gave for me, being 300 du- 
cats ; and had I not been so weakened, and in these 
rags, (indeed, I made myself more so than I was, for 
sometimes as they led me I pretended I could not go, 
and did often sit down ;) I say, had not these things 
been, in all likelihood I had been- sold for as much 
again in the market, and thus I had been dearer, and 
the difficulty greater to be redeemed. During the time 
of my being led up and down the market, I was pos- 
sessed with the greatest fears, not knowing who my 
patron might be. I feared it might be one from the 
country, who would carry me where I could not return, 
or it might be one in and about Sallee, of which we 
had sad accounts, and many other distracting thoughts 
I had. And though I was like to have been sold unto 
the most cruel man in Sallee, there being but one piece 
of eight between him and my patron, yet the Lord was 
pleased to cause him to buy me, of whom I may 
speak to the glory of God, as the kindest man in the 
place." 

This is the story of a respectable person, little distin- 
guished in the world. But the slave-dealer applied his 
inexorable system without distinction of persons. The 
experiences of St. Vincent de Paul did not differ from 
those of Abraham Brown. That eminent character, 



ITS TRUE CHARACTER. 285 

admired, beloved and worshipped by large circles of 
mankind, has also left a record of the circumstances at- 
tending his sale as a slave.* " Their proceedings," he 
says, " at our sale were as follows : after we had been 
stripped, they gave to each one of us a pair of drawers, 
a linen coat, with a cap, and paraded us through the 
city of Tunis, where they had come expressly to sell 
us. Having made us make five or six turns through 
the city, with the chain at our necks, they conducted us 
back to the boat, that the merchants might come to 
see who could cat well, and who not ; and to show that 
our wounds were not mortal. This done, they took us 
to the public square, where the merchants came to visit 
us, precisely as they do at the purchase of a horse or 
of cattle, making us open the mouth to see our teeth, 
feeling our sides, searching our wounds, and making 
us move our steps, trot and run, then lift burthens, and 
then wrestle, in order to see the strength of each, and 
a thousand other sorts of brutalities," 

And here we may refer again to Cervantes, whose 
pen was dipped in his own dark experience. In his 
Life in Algiers, he has displayed the horrors of the 
white slave-market. The public crier exposes for sale 
a father and mother with their two children. They 
are to be sold separately, or, according to thelanguage 
of our day, " in lots to suit purchasers." The father 
is resigned, confiding in God; the mother sobs; while 
the children, ignorant of the inhumanity of men, show 
an instinctive trust in the constant and wakeful protec- 
tion of their parents, — now, alas ! impotent to shield 
them from dire calamity. A merchant, inclining to 

* Biograpkie Universelle, arlicle, Vincent de Paul. 



286 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

purchase one of the " little ones," and wishing to ascer- 
tain his bodily condition, causes him to open his mouth. 
The child, still ignorant of the destiny which awaits him, 
imagines that the purchaser is about to extract a tooth, 
and, assuring him that it does not ache, begs him to 
desist. The merchant, in other respects an estimable 
man, pays one hundred and thirty dollars for the young- 
est child, and the sale is completed. Thus a human 
being — one of those children of whom it has been 
said, "Of such is the kingdom of heaven" — is pro- 
fanely treated as an article of merchandise, and torn 
far away from a mother's arms and a father's support. 
The hardening influence of custom has steeled the 
merchant into insensibility to this violation of humanity 
and justice, this laceration of sacred ties, this degrada- 
tion of the image of God. The unconscious heartless- 
ness of the slave-dealer, and the anguish of his vic- 
tims, are depicted in the dialogue which ensues after 
the sale.* 

Merchant. 
Come hither, child, 't is time to go to rest. 

Juan. 
Signor, I loill not leave tny mother here, 
To go with any one. 



* This translation is borrowed from Sismondi's Literature of the 
South of Europe, hy Roscoe, Vol. III. p. 381. Tliere is a letter of 
" John Dunton, ]\Iariner," addressed to the English Admiralty in 
1637, which might furnish the foundation of a similar scene. " For 
my only son," lie says, " is now a slave in Algier, and but ten years 
of age, and like to be lost for ever, without God's great mercy and 
the king's clemency, which, I hope, may he in some manner ob- 
tained." — Osborne's Voyages, Vol. II. p. 492. 



ITS TEUE CHARACTER. 287 

Mother, 
AJa!^ ! my child, thou art no longer mine, 
But his ivho bought thee. 

Juan, 
What ! then, have you, mother, 
Forsaken me ? 

Mother. 

Heavens ! how cruel are ye ! 

Merchant. 

Come, hasten, hoy. 

Juan. 
Will you go with me, brother? 

Francisco. 

1 cannot, Juan, 't is not in my power ; — 
May Heaven protect you, Juan ! 

Mother. 
O my child. 
My joy and my delight, God won't forget thee ! 

Juan. 

father ! mother I whither will they bear me 
Away from you? 

Mother, 
Permit me, worthy Signor, 
To speak a moment in my infant's ear. 
Grant me this small contentment ; very soon 

1 shall know naught but grief. 

Merchant. 
What you would say. 
Say now ; to-night is the last time. 

Mother, 
To-night 
Is the first time my heart e'er felt such grief 



•2S3 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

Juan. 
Pray keep me ivith you, mother, for I knoiv not 
Whither he ^d carry me. 

Mother. 
Alas, poor child ! 

Fortune forsook thee even at thy birth. 
Th^ heavens are overcast, the elements 
Are turbid, and the very sea and winds 
Are all combined against me. Thou, my child, 
Know' St not the dark misfortunes into which 
Thou art so early plunged, but happily 
Lackest the power to comprehend thy fate. 
What I would crave of thee, my life, since I 
Must never more be blessed with seeing thee, 
Is that thou never, never will forget 
To say, as thou wert wont, thy Ave Mary ; 
For that bright queen of goodness, grace, and virtue 
Can loosen all thy bonds and give thee freedom. 

Aydar. 
Behold the wicked Christian, how she counsels 
Her innocent child ! You wish, then, that your child 
Should, like yourself, continue still in error. 

Juan. 

O mother, mother, may I not remain 1 

And must these Moors, then, carry me away ? 

Mother. 
With thee, my child, they rob me of my treasures. 

Juan. 
O, I am much afraid ! 

Mother. 
-T is I, my child. 

Who ought to fear at seeing thee depart. 
Thou wilt forget thy God, me, and thyself. 



ITS TRUE CHARACTER. 289 

"What else can I expect from thee, abandoned 
At such a tender age, amongst a people 
Full of deceit and all iniquity ? 

Crier. 
Silence, you villanous woman ! if you ivould not 
JIave your head pay for what your tongue has done. 

From this scene we gladly avert the countenance, 
while, from the bottom of our hearts, we send our sym- 
patliies to the unhappy sufferers. Fain would we avert 
tlieir faie ; fain would we destroy the system of slavery, 
that has made them wretched and their masters crueh 
And yet we would not judge with harshness an Alge- 
rine slave-owner. He has been reared in a religion of 
slavery, — he has learned to regard Christians " guilty 
of a skin not colored like his own," as lawful prey, — 
and has found sanctions for his conduct in the injunc- 
tions of the Koran, in the custom of his country, and 
in the instinctive dictates of an imagined self-interest. 
It is, then, the " peculiar institution " which we are 
aroused to execrate, rather than the Algerine slave- 
masters, who glory in its influence, and, 

so perfect is their misery, 
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, 
But boast themselves more comely than before. 

But there is reason to believe that the sufferings of 
the white slaves were not often greater than is the nat- 
ural incident of slavery. There is an important authority 
which presents this point in an interesting light. It is 
that of General Eaton, for some time consul of the 
United States at Tunis, and whose name is not without 
note in the painful annals of war. In a letter to his 
wife, dated at Tunis, April 6th, 1799, and written amidst 

VOL. I. 19 



290 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

opportunities of observation such as few have enjoyed, 
he briefly describes the condition of this unhappy class, 
illustrating it by a comparison less flattering to our 
country than to Barbary. '' Many of the Christian 
slaves," he says, " have died of grief, and the others 
linger out a life less tolerable than death. Alas ! re- 
morse seizes my whole soul, when I reflect that this is, 
indeed, a copy of the very barbarity which my eyes 
have seen in my own native country. And yet we 
boast of liberty and national justice. How frequently 
have I seen in the Southern States of our own country 
weeping mothers leading guiltless infants to the sales 
with as deep anguish as if they led them to the slaugh- 
ter, and yet felt my bosom tranquil in the view of these 
aggressions upon defenceless humanity ! But when I 
see the same enormities practised upon beings whose 
complexion and blood claim kindred with my own, I 
curse the perpetrators and weep over the wretched vic- 
tims of their rapacity. Indeed, truth and justice 
demand from me the confession, that the Christian 
slaves among the harharians of AfoHca are treated icith 
more humanity than the African slaves among the 
professing Christians of civilized America; and yet 
here sensibility bleeds at every pore for the wretches 
whom fate has doomed to slavery." * 

Such testimony would seem to furnish a decisive 
standard or measure of comparison by which to deter- 
mine the character of White Slavery in the Barbary 
States. But there are other considerations and authori- 
ties. One of these is the influence of the religion of 
these barbarians. Travellers remark the generally 



* Eaton's Life, p. 145. 



ITS TRUE CHARACTER APOLOGIES. 291 

kind treatment bestowed by Mabomedans upon slaves.* 
The lash rarely, if ever, lacerates the back of the fe- 
male ; the knife or branding-iron is not employed upon 
any human being to mark him as the property of his 
fellow-man. Nor is the slave doomed, as in other coun- 
tries, where the Christian religion is professed, to un- 
conditional and perpetual service, without prospect of 
redemption. Hope, the last friend of misfortune, may 
brighten his captivity. He is not so walled up by inhu- 
man institutions as to be inaccessible to freedom. " And 
unto such of your slaves," says the Koran, in words 
worthy of adoption in the legislation of Christian coun- 
tries, " as desire a written instrument, allowing them to 
redeem themselves on paying a certain sum, write one, 
if ye know good in them, and give them of the riches 
of God, which he hath given you." t Thus from the 
Koran, which ordains slavery, come lessons of benig- 
nity to the slave ; and one of the most touching stories 
in Mahomedanism is of the generosity of Ali, the com- 
panion of the Prophet, who, after fasting for three days, 
gave his whole provision to a captive not more famished 
than himself. \ 

Such precepts and examples doubtless had their influ- 
ence in Algiers. It is evident, from the history of the 
country, that the prejudice of race did not so far prevail 



* Wilson's Travels, p. 93 ; Edinburgh Review, Vol. XXXVIII. 

p. 403 ; Noah's Travels, p. 302 ; Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. p. 
168 ; Shaler's Sketches of Algiers, p. 77. 

t Sale's Koran, Chap. 24, Vol. II. p. 194. The right of redemp- 
tion was recognized by the Gentoo Laws. — Halhed's Code, cap. 8, 
§ 1, 2. It was unknown in the British West Indies while slavery 
existed there. — Stephens on West India Slavery, Vol. II. pp. 378- 
384. It is also unknown in the Slave States of our country. 

t Sale's Koran, Vol. II. p. 474, note. 



292 TTHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

as to Stamp upon the slaves and their descendants any 
indelible mark of exclusion from power and influence. 
It often happened, that they arrived at eminent posts in 
the state. The seat of the Deys, more than once, was 
filled by humble Christian captives, who had tugged for 
years at the oar.* 

Nor do we feel, from the narratives of captives and 
of travellers, that the condition of the Christian slave 
was rigorous beyond the ordinary lot of slavery. ''• The 
Captive's Story " in Don Quixote fails to impress the 
reader with any peculiar horror of the condition from 
which he had escaped. It is often said that the suffer- 
ings of Cervantes were among the most severe which 
even Algiers could inflict, t But they did not repress 
the gaiety of his temper; and we learn that in the 
building where he was confined there was a chapel or 
oratory, in which mass was celebrated, the sacrament 
administered, and sermons regularly preached by cap- 
tive priests. J Nor was this all. The pleasures of the 
drama were enjoyed by these slaves ; and the farces of 
Lope de Rueda, a favorite Spanish dramatist of the time, 
served, in actual representation, to cheer this house of 
bondage. § 

* Haedo, Historia de Argel, p. 122 ; Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. 
pp. 169, 172; Shaler's Sketches of Algiers, p. 77 ; Short Account of 
Algiers, pp. 22, 25. It seems to have been supposed, that, according 
to tlie Koran, the condition of slavery ceased when the parly }*ecanie 
a Mussulman. — Penny Cyclopaedia, Art. S/aveiy ; Noah's Travels, 
p. 302 ; Shaler's Sketches, p. 69. In point of fact, freedom generally 
followed conversion ; but I do not find any injunction on the subject 
in the Koran. 

t De hi peores que en. Argel auia. Haedo, Hisloria de Argel^ p. 
85; Navarrete, Vida de Cervantes, p. 361. 

* Roscoe's Life of Cervantes, p. 303. 
Bafios de Argel. 



ITS rSUE CHARACTER JLFOLOGIZi. '293 

The experience of the devoted Portuguese ecclesias- 
tic. Father Thomas, illustrates this lot. la slayery in 
Morocco, he was able to minister to his fellovr-slares, 
and to write a work on the Passion of Jesus Christ. 
which has been admired for its unction, and translated 
into various tongues. At last liberated, through the 
intervention of the Portuguese ambassador, he chose tc 
remain behind, notwithstanding the solicitations of his 
relatives at home, that he might continue to instruct 
and console the unhappy men, his late companions in 
bonds.* 

Even the story of St. Vincent de Paul, so brutally 
sold in the public square, is not without its gleams Oif 
light. He \%-as bought by a fisherman, who ^^-as sooc 
constrained to get rid of him, " having nothing so con- 
trary- except the sea." He then passed into the hands 
of an old man, whom he pleasantly describes as a 
chemical doctor, a sovereign maker of quiatesseuces, 
very humane and kind, who bad lalK>red for the space 
of fifty \-ears in search of the philosopher's stone. "^ He 
lo\-ed mo much,-' says the fugitive slave, ** and pleased 
himself by discoursing to me of alchemy, and then 
of his religion, to which he made every e5brt to draw 
mo, promising me riches and all his wisdom." Ou the 
death of this master, he jxissed to a nephew, by whom 
he was sold to still another person, a renegade from 
Nice, who took him to the mountains, where the Cvxm- 
try >\'as extremely hot and desen. A Turkish wife of 
the latter becoming interested in him, and curioits to 
know his manner of livlni: at home, came to see him 



* i>.;>"--:f'A>e l'niV<rsfiUy article, Thofloais du Jesas; I>i5by's 
Broad S;oa« of Honour, Tamcrvdus. § ?. p. ISl. 



294 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

every day at his work in the fields ; and listened with 
delight to the slave, away from his country and the 
churches of his religion, as he sang the psalm of the 
children of Israel in a foreign land : " By the rivers of 
Babylon there we sat down ; yea we wept when we 
remembered Zion." * 

The kindness of the slave-master often appears. 
The English merchant, Abraham Brown, whose sale 
at Sallee has been already described, says, in his me- 
moirs, that, after he had been carried to the house of his 
master, his wounds were tenderly washed and dressed 
by his master's wife, and " indeed the whole family gave 
him comfortable words." He was furnished with a 
mat to lie on, " and some three or four days after pro- 
vided with a shirt, such a one as it was, a pair of shoes 
and an old doublet." His servile toils troubled him less 
than — "being commanded by a negro man, who had 
been a long time in his patron's house a freeman, at 
whose beck and command he was obliged to be obedient 
for the doing of the least about the house or mill ; " 
and he concludes his lament on this degradation as 
follows : " Thus 1, who had commanded many men in 
several parts of the world, must now be commanded by 
a negro, who, with his two countrywomen in the house, 
scorned to drink out of the water-pot 1 drank of, where- 
by I was despised of the despised people of the world." f 

At a later day we are furnished with another authen- 
tic picture. Captain Braithwaite, who accompanied the 
British minister to Morocco in 1727, in order to procure 



* Biographic Universelle, article, Vincent de Paul, 
t MS. Memoirs. 



ITS TRUE CHARACTER — APOLOGIES. 295 

the liberation of the British captives, after describing 
their comfortable condition, adds: — "I am sure we 
saw several captives who lived much better in Barbary 
than ever they did in their own country. Whatever 
money in charity was sent them by their friends in 
Europe was their own, unless they defrauded one 
another, which has happened much ofiener than by the 
Moors. Several of them are rich, and many have 
carried considerable sums out of the country, to the 
truth of wh'ch we are all witnesses. Several captives 
keep their mules, and some their servants ; and yet this 
is called insupportable slavery among Turks and Moors. 
But we found this, as well as many other things in this 
country, strangely misrepresented." * 

These statements — which, in the minds of those 
who do not place freedom above all price, may seem, 
at first view, to take the sting even from slavery — are 
not without support from other sources. Colonel Keat- 
inge, who, as a member of a diplomatic mission from 
England, visited Morocco in 1785, says of this evil 
there, that " it is very slightly inflicted, and as to any 
labor undergone, it does not deserve the name ; " t 
while Mr. Lempriere, who was in the same country 
not long afterwards, adds, — ''To the disgrace of 
Europe, the Moors treat their slaves with humanity." J 
In Tripoli, we are told, by a person who was for ten 
years a resident, that the same gentleness prevailed. 



* Braithwaite's Revolutions in Morocco, p. 353. 

t Kealinge's Travels, p. 250 ; Quarlerly Review, Vol. XV. p. 
146. See also Chenier's Present Slate of Morocco, Vol. I. p. 192 ; 
Iir'p 369. 

t Lempriere's Tour, p. 290. See also pp. 3, 147, 190, 279. 



296 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

" It is a great alleviation to our feelings," says the 
writer, speaking of the slaves, " to see them easy and 
well-dressed, and, so far from wearing chains, as cap- 
tives do in most other places, they are perfectly at lib- 
erty." * We have already seen the testimony of Gen- 
eral Eaton with regard to slavery in Tunis ; while Mr. 
Noah, one of his successors in the consulate of the 
United States at that place, says, — " In Tunis, from 
my observation, the slaves are not severely treated ; 
they are very useful, and many of them have made 
money." t And Mr. Shaler, with regard to the chief 
seat of Christian slavery, says, — " In short, there were 
slaves who left Algiers with regret." | 

A French writer of more recent date asserts, with 
some vehemence, and whh the authority of an eye- 
witness, that the Christian slaves at Algiers were not 
exposed to the miseries which they represented. I do 
not know that he vindicates their slavery, but, like Cap- 
tain Braithwaite, he evidently regards many of them 
as better off than they would be at home. According 
to him, they were well clad and well fed, much better 
than the free Christians who were there. The youngest 
and most comely were taken as pages by the Dey. 
Others were employed in the barracks ; others in the 
galleys; but even here there was a chapel, as in the 
time of Cervantes, for the free exercise of the Christian 
religion. Those who happened to be artisans, as car- 
penters, locksmiths, and calkers, were let to the owners 
of vessels. Others were employed on the public works ; 



* Narrative of Tea Years' Residence at Tripoli, p. 241. 
T Noah's Travels, p. 368. 
t Shaler's Sketches, p. 77. 



CONCLUSION, 297 

while others still were allowed the privilege of keeping 
a shop, in which their profits were sometimes so large as 
to enable them at the end of a year to purchase their 
ransom. But these were often known to become indif- 
ferent to freedom, and to prefer Algiers to their own 
country. The slaves of private persons were some- 
times employed in the family of their master, where 
their treatment necessarily depended much upon his 
character. If he were gentle and humane, their lot 
was fortunate ; they were regarded as children of the 
house. If he were harsh and selfish, then the iron of 
slavery did, indeed, enter their souls. Many were 
bought to be sold again for profit into distant parts of the 
country, where they were doomed to exhausting labor ; 
in which event their condition was most grievous. But 
special care was bestowed upon those who became 
ill, — not so much, it is said, from humanity as through 
fear of losing them.* 

But, whatever deductions may be made from the fa- 
miliar stories of White Slavery in the Barbary States, — 
admitting that it was mitigated by the genial influence 
of Mahomedanism, — that the captives were well clad 
and well fed, much better than the free Christians 
there, — that they were allowed opportunities of Chris- 
tian worship, — that they were often treated -w ith lenity 
and affectionate care, — that they were sometimes ad- 
vanced to posts of responsibility and honor, — and that 
they were known, in their contentment or stolidity, to 

* Histoire cV Alger : Description de ce Royauvie. etc., dc ses Forces 
He Tcrre et de Mer, Masurs et Costumes des Ilabitans, des Mores, dca 
Arabes, des Juifs, des Ckie.iens, dc scs Lois, cics (Paris, 1S30), 
Chap. 27. 



298 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

become indifferent to freedom, — still the institution or 
custom is hardly less hateful in our eyes. Slavery in 
all its forms, even under the mildest influences, is a 
wrong and a curse. No accidental gentleness of the 
master can make it otherwise. Against it reason, ex- 
perience, the heart of man, all cry out. " Disguise 
thyself as thou wilt, still. Slavery ! thou art a bitter 
draught ! and though thousands in all ages have been 
made to drink of thee, thou art no less bitter on that 
account." Algerine Slavery was a violation of the law 
of nature and of God. It was a usurpation of rights 
not granted to man. 

O execrable son, so to aspire 
Above his brethren, to himself assuming 
Authority usurped, from God not given! 
He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl, 
Dominion absolute; that right we hold 
By his donation ; but man over men 
He made not lord, such title to himself 
Reserving, human left from human free. * 

Such a relation, in defiance of God, could not fail to 
accumulate disastrous consequences upon all in any 
way parties to it ; for injustice and wrong are fatal 
alike to the doer and the sufferer. It is notorious that, 
in Algiers, it exerted a most pernicious influence on 
master as well as slave. The slave was crushed and 
degraded, his intelligence abased, even his love of free- 
dom extinguished. The master, accustomed from 
childhood to revolting inequalities of condition, was 
exalted into a mood of unconscious arrogance and self- 
confidence, inconsistent with the virtues of a pure and 
upright character. Unlimited power is apt to stretch 

* Paradise Lost, Book XH. 64-71. 



CONCLUSION. 299 

towards license ; and the wives and daughters of Chris- 
tian slaves were often pressed to be the concubines of 
their Algerine masters.* 

It is well, then, that it has passed away ! The Bar- 
bary States seem less barbarous, when we no longer 
discern this cruel oppression ! 

But the story of slavery there is not yet all told. 
While the Barbary States received white slaves by sea, 
stolen by their corsairs, they had also, from time im- 
memorial, imported black slaves from the south. Over 
the vast, illimitable sea of sand, in which is absorbed 
their southern border, — traversed by camels, those 
" ships of the desert," — were brought these unfortu- 
nate beings, as merchandise, with gold dust and ivory, 
doomed often to insufferable torments, while cruel thirst 
parched the lips, and tears vainly moistened the eyes. 
They also were ravished from their homes, and, like 
their white brethren from the north, compelled to taste 
of slavery. In numbers they have far surpassed their 
Christian peers. But for long years no pen or voice 
pleaded their cause ; nor did the Christian nations — 
professing a religion which teaches universal humanity, 
without respect of persons, and sends the precious sym- 
pathies of neighborhood to all who suffer, even at the 

* Noah's Travels, p. 248, 253 : Quarterly Review, Vol. XV. p. 
168. Among the concubines of a prince of Morocco were two slaves 
of the age of fifteen, one of Englisii. and the other of French ex- 
traction, — Lempriere's Tour, p. 147. There is an account of the fate 
of' one Mrs. Shaw, an Irish woman," in words hardly polite enough 
to be quoted. She was swept into the harem of Muley Ishmael 
who " forced her to turn Moor ; " " but soon after, having taken a 
dislike to her, he gave her to a soldier." — Braithwaile's Morocco, 
p. 191. 



800 WHITE SLAVERY IN THE BARBARY STATES. 

farthest pole — ever interfere in any way in their be- 
half. The navy of Great Britain, by the throats of their 
artillery, argued the freedom of all fellow -christians^ 
without distinction of nation ; but they heeded not the 
slavery of other brethren in bonds — Mahomedans or 
idolaters, children of the same Father in heaven. Lord 
Exmouth did but half his work. In confining the stipu- 
lation to the abolition of Christian slavery only, this 
Abolitionist made a discrimination, which, whether 
founded on religion or color, was selfish and unchris- 
tian. Here, again, we notice the same inconsistency 
which darkened the conduct of Charles the Fifth, and 
has constantly recurred throughout the history of this 
outrage. Forgetful of the Brotherhood of the Race, 
Christian powers have deemed the slavery of blacks 
just and proper, while the slavery of whites has been 
branded as unjust and sinful. 

As the British fleet sailed proudly from the harbor of 
Algiers, bearing its emancipated white slaves, and the 
express stipulation, that Christian slavery was abolished 
there forever, it left behind in bondage large numbers 
of blacks, distributed throughout all the Barbary States. 
Neglected thus by exclusive and unchristian Christen- 
dom, it is pleasant to know that their lot is not always 
unhappy. In Morocco negroes are still detained as 
slaves; but the prejudice of color seems not to prevail 
there. They have been called " the grand cavaliers of 
this part of Barbary."* They often become the chief 
magistrates and rulers of cities.t They constituted the 

* Braithwaite's MoroccOj p. 350. See also Quarterly Preview, 
Vol. XV. p. 168. 
t I'railhwaile, p. 222. 



CONCLUSION. 301 

body-guard of several of the emperors, and, on one 
occasion at least, exercised the prerogative of the PrjE- 
torian cohorts, in dethroning their master.* If negro 
slavery still exists in this state, it has little of the de- 
gradation connected with it elsewhere. Into Algiers 
France has already carried the benign principle of law 
— earlier recognized by her than by the English 
courts t — which secures freedom to all beneath its 
influence. And now we are cheered anew by the glad 
tidings recently received, that the Bey of Tunis, " for 
the glory of God, and to distinguish man from the 
brute creation," has decreed the total abolition of hu- 
man slavery throughout his dominions. 

Let us, then, with hope and confidence, turn to the 
Barbary States ! The virtues and charities do not 
come singly. Among them is a common bond, stronger 
than that of science or knowlege. Let one find admis- 
sion, and a goodly troop will follow. Nor is it unrea- 
sonable to anticipate other improvements in states which 
have renounced a long-cherished system of White 
Slavery, while they have done much to abolish or miti- 
gate the slavery of others not white, and to overcome 
the inhuman prejudice of color. The Christian nations 



* Ibid. p. 381. 

t Somersett's case, first declaring this principle, was decided in 
1772. M. Schoell says, that " this fine maxim has always obtained " 
in France. — Hisioire Ahregeedcs Traites de Pais, Tom XI. p. 178. 
By the royal ordinance 1318, it was declared, that "all men are 
born free {francs) by nature ; and that the kingdom of the French 
(Prancs) should be so in reality as in name." But this "fine 
maxim " was not recognized in France so completely as M. Schoell 
asserts. — See Encyclopedic (de Diderot et de D'Alemberi), Art. 
Esclavage. 



302 CONCLUSION. 

of Europe first declared, and practically enforced, 
within their own European dominions, the vital truth 
of freedom, that man cannot hold property in his 
brother-man. Algiers and Tunis, like Saul of Tarsus, 
have been turned from the path of persecution, and now 
receive the same faith. Algiers and Tunis now help to 
plead the cause of Freedom. Such a cause is m sacred 
fellowship with all those principles which promote the 
Progress of Man. And who can tell that this despised 
portion of the globe is not destined to yet another res- 
toration ? It was here in Northern Africa that civiliza- 
tion was first nursed, that commerce early spread her 
white wings, that Christianity was taught by the honey- 
ed lips of Augustine. All these are again returning 
to their ancient home. Civilization, commerce, and 
Christianity once more shed their benignant influences 
upon the land to which they have long been strangers. 
A new health and vigor now animate its exertions. 
Like its own giant Antaeus, — whose tomb is placed by 
tradition among the hill-sides of Algiers, — it has been 
often felled to the earth, but it now rises with renewed 
strength, to gain yet higher victories. 



FAME AND GLORY. AN ORATION BEFORE 
THE LITERARY SOCIETIES OF AMHERST 
COLLEGE, AT THEIR ANNIVERSARY, AU- 
GUST 11, 1847. 



But if there be in Glory aught of good, 
It may by means far different be obtained, 
Without ambition, war, or violence ; 
By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent. 
By patience, temperance. 

Paradise Regained. 



FAME AND GLORY. 



The literary festival, which we are assembled to 
commemorate, is called Commencement. To an inter- 
esting portion of my hearers it is the commencement 
of a new stage of life. The ingenuous student, who 
has passed his term of years — a classical Olympiad — 
amidst the restraints of the academy, in the daily pur- 
suits of the lecture-room, observant of forms, obsequi- 
ous to the college curfew, now renounces these restraints, 
heeds no longer the summoning bell, divests himself of 
the youthful gown, and here, under the auspices of 
Alma Mater, assumes the robe of manhood. At such 
a change, the mind and heart are open to receive im- 
pressions which may send their influence through 
remaining life. A seasonable word to-day may, perad- 
venture, like an acorn dropped into a propitious soil, 
send upwards its invigorating growth, till its stately 
trunk, its multitudinous branches, and sheltering foliage 
shall become an ornament and a protection of unspeak- 
able beauty. 

VOL. I. 20 



306 FAME AND GLORY. 

Feeling more than I can express the responsibility of 
the position in which, by your partial kindness, I am 
now placed, I trust that what I shall say may be found 
not unworthy of careful meditation, and that it may 
ripen in this generous soil with no unwelcome growth. 
I am to address the Literary Societies of Amherst Col- 
lege, and my subject will naturally bear some relation 
to the occasion and to the assembly. But, though ad- 
dressing literary societies, I feel that I should inade- 
quately perform this office at this time, if I spoke on 
any topic of mere literature without moralizing the 
theme ; nor could I satisfy myself, — I trust I should 
not satisfy you, — if I strove to excite merely a love of 
knowledge, of study, of books, or even of those clas- 
sics which, like the ancient Roman roads, — the Appian 
and Flaminian ways, once trod by returning proconsuls 
and tributary kings, — still continue the thoroughfares 
of nations. I may well leave these things to the lessons 
of your able company of instructors, and to the influ- 
ences of this place ; nor, indeed, can I expect to touch 
upon any topic which has not already, under the vari- 
ous mingled teachings of the pulpit and the chair, been 
impressed upon your minds with more force than I can 
command. Still, I may not vainly indulge the hope, 
by singling one special theme, to present it with dis- 
tinctness and unity, so that it may be connected in your 
minds, in some humble measure, with the grave and 
pleasant memories of this occasion. 

Standing on the threshold of life, anxious for its 
honors, — more anxious, Itrust, for its duties, — it is to 
you an important and interesting subject of inquiry, 
what should be your aims, and what your motives of 



FAME AND GLORY. 307 

conduct. The youthful bosom, filled with the examples 
of history, draws excitement from the praises lavished 
upon those who have preceded us, and pants for fresh 
fields of distinction. The laurels of Miltiades would 
not suffer Themistocles to sleep. It is feared that a 
kindred sleeplessness or unrest consumes the early 
thoughts of many in our day, and that, in those visions 
which, it is said, young men shall see. Fame and Glory 
too often absorb the sight. Let us turn our attention in 
this direction, and endeavor to ascertain the true nature 
of these potent attractions, and to what extent they may 
be justly regarded. 

My subject will be Fame and Glory. And now, as 
I undertake this discussion, 1 feel that I enter upon a 
theme which has become a commonplace of declama- 
tion, while it has filled the aspirations of many of the 
noblest natures that have lived. The essay of the great 
Roman orator. Be Gloria^ which, surviving the wreck 
of antiquity, was lost in the darkness of the Middle 
Ages, cannot claim exclusive possession of the topic 
which he had fondly made his own ; and a speaker in 
a Christian age may hope to combine some lights and 
illustrations which had not dawned even upon the ex- 
alted intellect of the righteous Heathen. 

Three questions present themselves : Firsts What, 
according to common acceptance, are Fame and Glory ? 
Secondly^ To what extent, if any, are they proper mo- 
tives of conduct, or objects of regard ? and, Thirdly^ 
What are True Fame and Glory, and who are the men 
most worthy of honor ? In the course of our inquiry, 
we shall naturally be led to pass in review scenes and 



308 FAME AND GLORY. 

characters memorable in history, and to regard from a 
distance some of the dazzling heights of human ambi- 
tion. 

I. In considering the first question, — What, accord- 
ing to common acceptance, are Fame and Glory ? — 
we must look beyond the words of poets, the eulogies 
of orators, and the discordant voices of history and 
philosophy. We must endeavor to observe these nim- 
ble-footed phantoms from a nearer point of view, to 
follow their movements, to note their principles of life 
and growth, and to direct upon them the light of moral- 
ity and religion. Thus we may hope to arrive at a 
clear perception of their true character, and perhaps, 
in some minds, to disenchant their pernicious power and 
break their unhappy sorcery. 

Fame was portrayed by the poets of antiquity as a 
monster, with innumerable eyes to see, innumerable 
ears to hear, and innumerable tongues to declare what 
she had seen and heard : — 

Monstrum horrendum, ingens, cui quot sunt corpore plumoe, 

Tot vigiles oculi subter (mirabile dictu), 

Tot linguae, totidem ora sonant, tot subrigit aures.* 

In this character, however, her office was different from 
that commonly attached to Glory. She was the grand 
author and circulator of reports, of news, of tidings, 
good or bad, true or false. Glory seems to have 
escaped the unpleasing personification of her sister, 
Fame. These two names were often used in the same 
sense ; but the former more exclusively designated that 

*^aeis, Lib. IV. 181. 



COMMON IDEAS OF. 309 

splendor of renown which was so great an object of 
heathen ambition. For our present purpose they may 
be regarded as synonymous, denoting, with different 
degrees of force, the reputation which is awarded on 
earth for human conduct. 

Glory, in its common acceptance, is, then, a form or 
expression of public opinion. It is the judgment upon 
our lives or acts, which is uttered by fellow-mortals. 
It is the product of their voices. It is the echo of their 
characters and minds. Its value and significance are, 
of course, to be measured by the weight which is justly 
attached to this opinion. If the people from whom it 
proceeds are enlightened, benevolent, and just, their 
favor may be a mark of true honor. If, on the other 
hand, they are ignorant, heartless, or unjust, their praise 
must be an uncertain mdex of real merit, varying 
always in accordance with the elevation, the mediocrity, 
or the degradation of their intellectual and moral 
character. 

This explanation may enable us to appreciate the 
different foundations of Fame in difTerent places and 
times. In early and barbarous periods, homage is ex- 
clusively rendered to achievements of physical strength, 
chiefly in slaying w^ild beasts, or human beings who are 
termed enemies. The feasts of Hercules, which fill 
the fables and mythology of early Greece, were tri- 
umphs of brute force. Conqueror of the Nemean lion 
and the many-headed hydra, — strangler of the giant 
^ntseus, — ilhistrious scavenger of the Augean stables, 
— grand abater of the nuisances of the age in which 
he lived, — he was hailed as a hero, and commemorated 
as a god. And at a later time honor was still continued 



310 FAME AND GLORY. 

to mere muscular strength of arm. One of the most 
poHte and eminent chiefs at the siege of Troy is distin- 
guished by Homer for the ease with which he hurled a 
rock, such as could not be lifted even by two strong 
men in our day : — 

A ponderous stone bold Hector heaved to throw, 

Pointed above, and rough and gross below ; 

Not two strong men the enormous weight could raise, 

S,uch men as live in these degenerate days ; 

Yet this, as easy as a swain could bear 

The snowy fleece, he tossed and shook in air.* 

And this was Glory, in an age which had not yet 
learned to regard the moral and intellectual nature of 
man, or that which distinguishes him from the beasts 
that perish, as the only source of conduct worthy of 
enlightened renown. 

As we enter the polished periods of antiquity, ambi- 
tion gleams before us in new forms, while much still 
remains to attest the barbarism that slowly yields to ad- 
vancing light. At the Olympic games, all Greece 
joined in competition for the prizes which were awarded 
to successful charioteers and athletes ; and victory here 
was hailed as a great Glory. Poets did not disdain to 
sing these achievements ; and the odes of Pindar — 
the Theban eagle, whose pride of place is still undis- 
turbed in the Grecian firmament — are squandered in 
commemoration of these petty or vulgar contests. In 
Sparta, honor w^as accorded to the soldier only, who 
returned with his shield or on it. The heavenly arts of 
peace yielded a dismal precedence to the toils of war. 
To these were dedicated life and sacred education. 

* Iliad, XII. 537. 



COMMON IDEAS OF. 311 

Athens, instinct with the martial spirit, did not fail to 
cherish the owl of wisdom with the spear of battle, that 
belonged to her patron goddess. Poetry, eloquence, 
philosophy, history, art, held divided empire with the 
passion for arms ; so that this city is wreathed with a 
Glory other and higher than that of Sparta. And yet 
this brilliant renown, admired through a long succession 
of ages, must fade»and grow dull by the side of tri- 
umphs grander and holier than any achieved by force 
or intellect alone. 

Rome slowly learned to recognize labors which were 
not employed in war. In her stately and imperatorial 
tongue, virtue — that word of highest import — was 
often restrained in its signification to vulgar martial 
courage. Her much prized crowns of honor were all 
awarded to the successful soldier. The title to a tri- 
umph, that loftiest object of ambition, was determined 
by the number of enemies destroyed, of whom at least 
five thousand must have been slain in battle without any 
considerable detriment to the Roman power. And her 
most illustrious characters cherished this barbarous 
spirit. Cato the Censor, that model Roman, hearing 
that the Athenian ambassador had captivated the youth 
of Rome by the charms of philosophy, abruptly dis- 
missed them, expressing, with the spirit of a Mohawk 
Indian, his apprehension of its corrupting influence on a 
people whose only profession was war. Even Cicero, 
in his work of beautiful but checkered morals, where 
heathenism blends with truth almost Christian, com- 
mends to youth the Glory of war, while he congratulates 
his son Marcus on the great praise which he had ob- 
tained from Pompey and the whole army, '' by riding, 



312 FAME AND GLORY. 

by hurling the javelin, and by enduring every kind of 
military labor.'" * 

But the Roman, who was taught the Glory of war, 
was also told, as a last resort, to shun the evils of the 
world by taking his own life, — by falling on his sword, 
like Brutus, or opening his veins, like Seneca. Suicide 
\vas honorable, glorious, A grave historian has re- 
corded the melancholy end of Marcus Cato at Utica, 
the general features of whose death are so familiar 
to English readers from Addison's tragedy ; first, 
the calm perusal of Plato's Dialogue on the Immor- 
tality of the Soul ; then the plunging of the dagger 
into his body ; the alarm of friends ; the timely presence 
of aid, by which the wound was closed ; then, when 
the determined patriot was again left alone, a further 
ferocious persistence in his purpose till life was extinct ; 
all this is crowned by the statement, that Cato, even by 
his death, gained great Glory. t 

Other stages of Progress show still other elements of 
renown. The Huns bestowed Glory upon the success- 
ful robber ; the Scandinavians, upon the triumphant 
pirate ; while in Wales petty larceny and grossness of 
conduct were the foundations of Fame. There is a 
Welsh tale, called The Mabinogion, a monument of the 
early manners of that mountainous district which so 
long withstood the power of England, in which a mother 
gives to her son the rules of conduct which shall secure 
an honorable name. " Now, hear," says the ambitious 
mother to her child, " if by chance thou comest by a 
church, there chant thy Pater Noster. When thou 
seest victuals and drink to satisfy thy appetite, help 

* De Officiis, II. 13. t Dion Cassius, Lib. XLIII. c. 11. 



/- 



COMMON IDEAS OF. 313 

thyself thereto. If thou shouldst hear a cry of distress, 
go and know the cause ; but in particular, if it is the 
voice of a female. Should any precious jewel attract 
thy eyes, take it. Thus shall thou acquire Fame.'''' 
The processes of Fame, which are thus rudely displayed, 
were refined by the age of chivalry ; but the vivid pages 
of Froissart show, that, while courtsey was introduced 
as a fresh and grateful element, the petty triumphs of 
petty personal encounters with the spear and the sword 
were the honorable feats by which applause was won 
and a name extended after death. And we may learn 
from old Michael Drayton, the poet who has pictured 
the battle of Agincourt, the inhuman renown which was 
there obtained : — 

Who would have Fame full dearly here it bought, 
For it was sold by measure and by weight ; 
And at one rate the price still certain stood, — 
An ounce of honor cost a pound of blood. 

It appears from the early literature of Spain, where 
chivalry found a favorite haunt, that brutality, assassi- 
nation, and murder were often accounted glorious, and 
that adventure in robbery and promptitude in ven- 
geance were favorite feats of heroism. The Life of the 
Valiant Cespedez, a Spanish knight of high renown, 
by Lope de Vega, reveals a succession of exploits, 
which were the performances of a brawny porter and 
a bully. All the passions of a rude nature were grati- 
fied at will. Sanguinary revenge and inhuman harsh- 
ness were his honorable pursuit. With a furious blow 
of his clenched fist, in the very palace of the Em- 
peror at Augsburg, he knocked out the teeth of a 
heretic, — an achievement which was hailed with honor 



314 FAME AND GLORY. 

and congratulation by the Duke of Alva, and by his 
master, Charles the Fifth. Thus did a Spanish gen- 
tleman acquire Fame in the sixteenth century ! * 

Such have been some of the objects of praise in other 
places and times. Such has been the Glory achieved. 
Men have always extolled those characters and acts, 
which, according to their knowledge or ignorance, they 
were best able to appreciate. Nor does this rule fail in 
its application to our day. The ends of pursuit vary 
still, in different parts of the globe and among different 
persons ; and Fame is awarded, in some places or by 
some persons, to conduct which elsewhere or by othei-s 
is regarded as barbarous. The North American savage 
commemorates the chief who is able to hang at the 
door of his wigw^am a heavy string of scalps, the spoils 
of war. The New-Zealander honors the sturdy cham- 
pion who slays, and then eats, his enemies. The can- 
nibal of the Feejee Islands — only recently explored 
by an expedition from our shores — is praised for his 
adroitness in lying ; for the dozen men he has killed 
with his own hand ; for his triumphant capture, in bat- 
tle, of a piece of tapa-cloth attached to a staff, not 
unlike one of our flags ; and when he is dead, his club 
is placed in his hand, and extended across the breast, 
to indicate in the next world that the deceased was a 
chief and a warrior. t This is barbarous Glory ! But 
among the nations professing Christianity, in our day, 
there is a powerful public opinion which yields honor 
to conduct from which we turn with disgust, as we dis- 

* Sismondi's Literature of the South of Europe, Vol. IV. pp. 5-19. 
t Narrative of the United Slates Exploring Expedition, Vol III. 
pp. 76, 80, 98. 



COMMON IDEAS OF. 315 

cern it among the savages of our forest, or the canni- 
bals of the Pacific. The triumphs of animal strength 
and of brutish violence are hailed as worthy sources of 
renown. With a perverse insensibility to the relative 
value of different services, the chances and incidents of 
war are exalted above all the pursuits of peace. Vic- 
tors, from fields moistened with a murdered brother's 
blood, are greeted with the grateful salutations that are 
justly due to those only who have triumphantly fulfilled 
the grand commandments on which hang all the law 
and the prophets. 

Such is the controlling public opinion of our age and 
country. A people which regards success rather than 
those sacred objects for which alone success is worthy 
of desire, — which has not yet discerned the beauty 
of humble and disinterested labors in the great causes 
by which the welfare of mankind is advanced, — which 
has not yet admired the golden link of harmony by 
which all efforts of usefulness are bound together, — 
which has not yet recognized as a vital truth the pecu- 
liar Christian sentiment of Human Brotherhood, regard- 
less of any difference of country, color, or race, — 
which does not feel, in the concerns of state, as of 
private life, the enkindling supremacy of those princi- 
ples of Justice and Benevolence, which irradiate, with 
heavenly influences, the home of the poor, the minds 
of the ignorant, and the solitude of the prison ; which 
reveal the degradation of the slave, and the wickedness 
of war, while they exalt scholarship, invigorate elo- 
quence, extend science and all human knowledge, — 
such a people, not unnaturally, sends the reflection of 
its applause upon conduct less in harmony with truth. 



316 FAME AND GLORY. 

virtue, goodness, than with its own imperfect spirit. 
And this is what is called reputation. Fame, Glory, — 
fickle as a breeze, unsubstantial as a shadow. Well 
does the master poet of Italy say, — 

Naught is this mundane Glorj'^, hut a hrealh 

Of wind, that now comes this way, and now that, 

And changes name because it changes place.* 

II. In determining that Glory is but a form or ex- 
pression of public opinion, — valuable, of course, only 
according to the character of those from whom it pro- 
ceeds, — the way is prepared for the consideration of 
the second question, — To what extent, if any, is it a 
proper motive of conduct or object of regard ? 

In the clear light of those Christian precepts which 
ordain exalted duties as the rule of life, this inquiry 
might be shortly answered. It may be well, however, 
to observe it in other aspects. 

The subject of Glory occupied the minds of the phi- 
losophers of antiquity, who disputed much on its value. 
Chrysippus and Diogenes expressed for it unbounded 
contempt, declaring that it was not worth so much as 
the reaching forth of a finger.t Epicurus, under the 
natural guidance of his principles, enjoining repose and 
indifference to all public affairs, necessarily inculcated 
a similar contempt. His views were sententiously ex- 
pressed in the precept of his school. Conceal thy life, 
and he did not hesitate to counsel his disciples to avoid 
regulating their conduct by the opinion of others or the 
reputation of the world. But it has been pleasantly 

* Dante, Purgatorio, Canto XL 100, 
t Cicero, De Finibus, Lib. IIL c. 17. 



AS MOTIVES. 317 

remarked, that even this philosopher, in his dying mo- 
ments, relaxed in that insensibility which he had en- 
joined, — that he then dwelt upon the pleasure derived 
from the memory of his teachings, and by his will ex- 
pressly ordered his heirs, after his death, to provide, in 
every recurring month of January, a festival in honor 
of the day of his birlh.* 

On the other hand, Carneades maintained distinctly 
that Glory was to be sought for its own sake, — an 
opinion which has not failed to find much sympathy 
and many followers. t Aristotle regarded it as the 
greatest and most invaluable of external goods, and 
warned against two extremes, both, in his opinion, 
equally vicious, — excess in seeking it and in avoiding 
it. I But it is to the great Roman orator that we are to 
look for the most vivid defence of this, the master- 
passion of his youth, his manhood, and age. 

The influence which Cicero has exerted over the 
opinions of mankind renders it not improper to dwell 
with some care upon this feature of his character. Of 
a less solid understanding than Demosthenes or Aris- 
totle, — the first of whom, in his most masterly oration, 
vindicated for himself a crown, the badge of Glory, 
while the latter, as we have already seen, was not in- 
sensible to its attractions, — he is more conspicuous 
than either for the earnestness and constancy with 
which he displays its influence, for the frankness with 

* Montaigne's Essays, Book II. ch. 16, Of Glory. The will is pre- 
served in llie Life of Epicurus, by Diogenes Laerlius, Lib. X. See, 
also, Cicero De Finibus, Lib. II. c. 30, 31. 

t Cicero, De Finibus, Lib. III. c. 17. 

X Aristotle, Ethics, Lib. II. c. 7 ; Lib. IV. c. 3,4. 



318 FAME AND GLORY. 

which he recognizes it as a supreme motive and reward, 
and for the seductive eloquence with which he com- 
mends it as an object of vehement and perpetual ambi- 
tion. On his return from those studies in Athens by 
which his skill as an orator was so much enhanced, he 
consulted the Oracle at Delphi ; not to learn how best 
bis great powers and accomplishments might be de- 
voted to the good of mankind ; but by what means he 
might soonest arrive at the height of Glory. The 
answer of the Oracle, though imperfect and heathen, 
was in a higher mood than the inquiry. It was, " By 
making his own genius, and not the opinion of the 
people, the guide of his life." Arrived in Rome, he 
was fired by the Fame of Hortensius at the bar, and 
commenced his forensic career in emulous rivalry with 
that illustrious lawyer. In all the manifold labors of 
his subsequent life, as orator, statesman, general, 
rhetorician, poet, historian, critic, and philosopher, the 
aspiration for renown was the Labarum by which he 
was guided and inspired. It was to him the pillar of 
fire by night and the cloud by day. 

In Cicero, this sentiment was ennobled, so far as 
possible with a desire so selfish, by the eminent standard 
which he established for the Glory that he coveted. In 
one of his orations, he characterizes it as " the illustri- 
ous and extended Fame of many and great deserts, 
either towards friends, or towards country, or towards 
the whole race of men." * And again, in the calmness 
of those philosophical speculations by which his name 
has been exalted, not less than by the eloquence which 

* Pro Marcello, 8. 



AS MOTIVES CICERO. 



319 



crushed Catiline, which won the clemency of Ceesar, 
and hlasted the character of Antony, he declares that 
" Glory is the consenting praise of the good, — the 
incorrupt voice of the best judges of excellent virtue, 
resounding to virtue as an echo, which, as it is for the 
most part the companion of righteous conduct, ought 
not to be repudiated by good men." * This is, indeed, 
a picture of True Glory ; nor were there any occasion 
of criticism, if he had striven to do the good works to 
which Fame resounds as an echo, without regard to 
his own personal advancement. 

But howsoever elevated his conception of Glory, he 
still sought it for its own sake. He wooed it with the 
ardor of a lover, and embraced it as the bride of his 
bosom. In that unsurpassed effort for his early teacher, 
the poet Archias, where the union of literary and pro- 
fessional studies is vindicated with a beauty equal to the 
cause, he makes a public profession of his constant 
desire for Fame. In quoting his words on that occasion, 
I present, perhaps, the most eloquent and engaging vin- 
dication of this sentiment which has ever fallen from 
mortal lips, while it is a passage which has doubtless 
exercised an important influence upon the opinions of 
many minds. "Nor is this," says he,t"to be dis- 
sembled, which cannot be concealed, but is to be openly 
avowed ; we are all drawn by the love of praise, and 
the best man is guided chiefly by the love of Glory. 
The very philosophers themselves, even in those little 
books, which they write in the contempt of Glory, in- 
scribe their own names ; they wish to be praised, and 

* Tusc. Quaest. Lib. III. c. 2. t Pro Archia, II. 



320 FAME AND GLORY. 

to have their names perpetuated, even in the productions 

in which they despise Fame and renown And 

now, my judges, I will declare myself to you, and con- 
fess to you my love of Glory, too strong, perhaps, but 

nevertheless honorable For virtue desires no 

other reward of its toils and perils but praise and 
Glory, which being withdrawn, what indeed is there, 
which, in this so slender and brief span of life, may 
move us to such great labors ? Surely, if the soul 
should anticipate nothing from posterity, and if it 
should bound all its thoughts to those regions by which 
the space of life is circumscribed, it would neither 
wear itself with so great labors, nor would it be fretted 
by so many cares and vigils, nor would it fight so often 
for life itself. Now a certain virtue fills the best men, 
which night and day excites and admonishes the soul 
with the spur of Glory, that the memory of our name 
be not lost with life, but be extended to all posterity." 
This, certainly, is frank. And in another oration, 
Cicero sharply declares, that no man has exerted him- 
self with praise and valor in the perils of the republic, 
who was not drawn to it by the hope of Glory and a 
regard to posterity.* 

Thus distinctly recognizing human applause as an 
all-sufficient motive of conduct, and professing his own 
dependence upon it, we cannot be surprised at his sedu- 
lous efforts to fortify his Fame, nor even at the itera- 
tions of self-praise with which his productions abound. 
In that interesting collection of his letters, — so much 
of which has been happily spared to us, disclosing the 

* Pro C. Rabirio, 10. 



AS MOTIVES — CICERO. 321 

aims and aspirations of his life, — there is, however, 
naost melancholy evidence of the pernicious influence 
of this passion, even in his noble bosom. With an im- 
modest freedom, which he vindicates to himself by the 
remarkable expression, that an epistle does not Mush, 
he invites his friend Lucceius to undertake the history 
of that portion of his life rendered memorable by the 
overthrow of the Catilinarian conspiracy, his exile, and 
his return to his country ; and, not content with dwell- 
ing on the variety and startling nature of the incidents, 
and the scope they would naturally afford to the accom- 
plished historian, whose Glory, he subtly suggests, may, 
in this way, be connected forever with his own, as is 
that of Apelles with Alexander's, he proceeds so far as 
openly to press his friend, if he does not think the facts 
worth the pains of adorning, yet to allow so much to 
friendship, to affection, and to that favor which he had 
so persuasively condemned in his prefaces, as not to 
confine himself scrupulously to the strict laws of his- 
tory or the requirements of truth.* Thus, in the mad- 
ness of his passion for Glory, would he suborn that 
sacred verity, which is higher than friendship, affection, 
or any earthly favor ! 

A character like Cicero, compact of so many virtues, 

* EpistolaB ad Diversos, Lib. V. 12. The letter to Lucceius seems 
to have been a favorite, as it certainly is a most remarkable, pro- 
duction of its author. Writing to Atticus, he says, " valde bella est,'' 
and seeks to interest him in the same behalf. Ad Atticum, Lib. IV. 
7. — Pliny, who looked to the pen of Tacitus for Fame, but in a 
higher spirit than Cicero, expressly declares, that he does not de- 
sire him to give the least offence to truth. " Quanquam non exigc 
ut excedas rei actae modum. Nam nee historia debet egredi verita- 
tem, et honeste factis Veritas sufficit." — Plin. EpistoliE,Lib.VIL 33. 
VOL. I 21 



322 FAME AND GLORY. 

resplendent with a genius so lofty, standing on one of 
the most commanding pinnacles of classical antiquity, 
still admired by the wide world, hardly less than by the 
living multitudes that once chafed about the rostrum 
like a raging sea, and were stilled by the music of his 
voice, — such a character cannot fail to exert a too 
magical charm over the minds of the young, especially 
where his lessons harmonize with the weakness, rather 
than with the sternness of our nature ; — with the in- 
stinctive promptings of selfishness, rather than with 
that disinterestedness which places duty, without hope 
of reward, without fear or favor, above all human con- 
siderations. It is most true, that he has lighted, in 
many bosoms, something of his own inextinguishable 
ardors; and the American youth — child of a continent 
beyond the Atlantis of his imagination, and nurtured 
by institutions which he had never seen, even in his 
vision of a Republic — feels a glow of selfish ambition, 
as, in the tasks of the school, he daily cons the writings 
of this great master. 

His influence is easily discerned in the sentiments of 
those who have felt the fascination of his genius. I 
may refer, by way of example, to Sir William Jones, a 
character of much purity, and of constant sympathy 
with freedom and humanity, not less than with the 
various labors of learning and literature. In one of his 
early letters, he said that he wished " absolutely to 
make Cicero his model ; " * while in another he shows 
himself a true disciple, by professing loyalty to the 
same motive of conduct which animated the Roman. 

* Teignmouth's Life of Jones, p. 96. 



AS MOTIVES. 323 

" Do not imagine," says Jones, " that I despise the 
usual enjoyments of youth. No one can take more 
delight in singing and dancing than I do ; nor in the 
moderate use of wine, nor in the exquisite beauty of the 
ladies, of whom London affords an enchanting variety ; 
lut I prefer Glory, my supreme delight, to all other 
gratifications, and will pursue it through Jire and water 
hy day and night.'''' * 

It will be proper now to pause, in this review of opin- 
ion, and endeavor, by careful analysis, to comprehend 
the moderate and Christian office of this sentiment, 
which is elevated to be a guide of conduct and an 
aim of life. 

That, as we are constituted, it does exert an imperi- 
ous control over most minds, will not be denied. Its 
influence is widely and variously felt though seeming 
to diminish whh advancing years, with the growth of 
the moral and intellectual nature, with the develop- 
ment of the Christian character, and in proportion as 
the great realities of existence here and hereafter ab- 
sorb the soul. The child, in his earliest dalliance on a 
parent's knee, is keenly sensitive to it. This sentiment 
is an element of that unamiable selfishness which then 
pervades his crude character, rendering him jealous 
and envious of the caresses and the petty praises be- 
stowed upon another. His little bosom palpitates with 
the unrestrained ardors, which, in children of a larger 
growth, have animated conquerors, and those whom 
the world has weakly called great. As he mingles 
with his playmates, the same passion enters into his 

* Teignmouth's Life of Jones, p. 126. 



324 FAME AND GLORY. 

sports, and attends even the exercises of the school. 
He is covetous of the evanescent applause bestowed 
upon eminence among his peers. He struggles for this 
fragile Glory, — a bubble blown by the breath of 
boys. 

A similar solicitude continues in maturer years, mod- 
ified by the period and the circumstances of life. The 
youth, when putting away childish things, rarely for- 
gets the sentiment of emulation. In the pursuit of 
knowledge, while not insensible to the desire of excel- 
lence^ he is animated by the desire of excelling. I do 
not mention this for any purpose of austere criticism, 
but as a psychological fact, which all will attest. And 
when the period of preparation gives place to that of 
action in the world, then this same sentiment, which 
absorbed the child and animated the youth, reappears 
in the confirmed ambition of manhood. Now, under a 
loftier name, and with a mien of majesty, it beckons 
him to competition with the great masters of human 
thought and conduct, and fills his bosom with a pleas- 
ing frenzy. He is aroused by 

The spur that the clear spirit doth raise, 
{That last injirmity of noble mind,) 
To scorn delights and live laborious days. 

He burns to impress his name upon his age, and to 
challenge the gratitude of posterity. For this he en- 
ters the lists with his voice, his pen, or — his sword. 
Like Themistocles, he is rendered sleepless by the 
laurels of those who have gone before him ; like Alex- 
ander, he sighs for some new world to conquer ; like 
Csesar, he pours his fruitless tears, because, at the age 
of the dying Alexander, he has conquered nothing ; 



AS MOTIVES. 325 

like Cicero, he dwells upon the applause of men, and 
draws from it fresh inspiration to labor. This is the 
Love of Glory ^ a sentiment, which lurks in every stage 
and sphere of life ; with the young, the middle-aged, 
and the old ; with the lowly, the moderate, and the 
great ; under as many aliases as a culprit; but, in all 
its different forms and guises, has one simple animating 
essence, the desire of the approbation of our fellow- 
men. It is by a touch of exquisite nature that Dante re- 
veals the suffering spirits, in the penal gloom and terrors 
of another world, clothed in the weakness of mortal pas- 
sions, and unconscious of the true glories of Paradise, 
still tormented by the desire to be spoken of on earth.* 
This desire is native to the human heart. It is a 
natural sentiment, implanted at our birth in the organi- 
zation of our characters. It is kindred to those other 
selfish sentiments and appetites, whose office is to pro- 
vide for our protection. It is like the love of wealth, or 
the love of power, — desires which all feel, to a certain 
extent, to be a part of their nature. Recognizing it, 
then, as one of the endowments which we have re- 
ceived from the hand of God, we may well hesitate to 
condemn its influence at all times and under all cir- 
cumstances. It has been Implanted for some good 
purpose ; and our duty is clear to endeavor to compre- 
hend its true function. This it will not be difficult 
to do. 



* Pero se campi d' esli lochi bui, 
E torni a riveder le belle stelle, 
Quando li giovera dicere : lo fui, 
Fa die di noi alia gentefavelle. 

Inferno. Canto XVl 



326 FAME AND GLORY. 

The Love of Glory is, then, a motive of human con- 
duct. But it is not the only motive. The same Heav- 
enly Father, who has endowed us with the love of ap- 
probation, has also placed in our characters sentiments 
of a higher order, more kindred to his own divine 
nature. These are Justice and Benevolence, both of 
which, howsoever poorly developed or ill directed, are 
component parts of every human mind. The desire 
of Justice, filling us with the love of duty, is the senti- 
ment which fits us to receive and comprehend the 
Christian injunction of doing unto others as we would 
have them do unto us. In the predominance of this 
sentiment, enlightened by intelligence, injustice be- 
comes impossible. The desire of Benevolence goes 
further. It leads all, who are under its influence, to 
those acts of kindness, of disinterestedness, of humani- 
ty, of love to our neighbors, which constitute the 
crown of the Christian character. Surely, such senti- 
ments are celestial, godlike in their office. 

In determining the proper motives of conduct, it is 
easy to perceive that the higher are more commenda- 
ble than the lower, and that even an act of Justice and 
Benevolence loses something of its charm when it is 
known to be inspired by the selfish desire of human 
applause. It was the gay poet of antiquity who said 
that concealed virtue differed little from sepulchred 
sluggishness : — 

Paulum sepultas distat inertioe 
Celata virtus. 

But this is a heathen sentiment, alien to reason and to 
religion. It is honed that men will be honest, but from 



AS MOTIVES. 327 

a higher motive than because honesty is the best policy. 
It is hoped that they will be humane, but for nobler 
cause than the Fame of humanity. 

The love of approbation may properly animate the 
young, whose minds have not yet ascended to the ap- 
preciation of that virtue which is its own exceeding 
great reward.* It may justly strengthen those of 
maturer age, who are not moved by the simple appeals 
of Justice and Benevolence, unless the smiles of man- 
kind attend them. It were churlish, indeed, not to 
offer our homage to those acts by which happiness has 
been promoted, even though inspired by a sentiment of 
personal ambition, or by considerations of policy. But 
such motives must always detract from the perfect 
beauty even of good works. The Man of Ross, who 

Did good by stealth, and blushed to find it Fame, 

was a character of real life, and the example of his 
virtue may still be prized, like the diamond, for its sur- 
passing rarity. Let it not be disguised, however, that 
much is gained, where the desire of praise acts in con- 
junction with the higher sentiments. If ambition be 
our lure, it will be well for mankind if it unite with 
Justice and Benevolence. 

It may be asked, if we are to be indifferent to the 
approbation of men. Certainly not. It is a proper 
source of gratification, and is one of the just rewards 
on earth of human conduct. It may be enjoyed when 
virtuously won, though it were better, if not proposed as 
a special object of desire. The great English magis- 

* Virlutum omnium pretium in ipsis est ; non enim exercenlur ad 
prcemium ; recte facti fecisse merces. — Seneca, Epist. 82. 



328 FAME AND GLORY. 

trate, Lord Mansfield, while confessing a love for popu- 
larity, added, in words which cannot be too often 
quoted, — " But it is that popularity which follows, not 
that which is run after ; it is that popularity which, 
sooner or later, never fails to do justice to the pursuit of 
noble ends by noble means." And the historian of 
the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, who was 
no stranger to the Love of Glory, has given expression 
to the satisfaction which he derived from the approba- 
tion of those whose opinions were valuable. " If I 
have listened to the music of praise," says Gibbon, in 
his Autobiography, " I was more seriously satisfied with 
the approbation of my judges. The candor of Dr. 
Robertson embraced his disciple. A letter of Mr. 
Hume overpaid the labor of ten years." 

But while recognizing praise as an incidental re- 
ward, though not a commendable motive of conduct, 
we cannot disregard the evil influences which ensue, 
when its desire predominates over the character, and 
fdls the mind, as is too often the case, with a blind 
emulation, chiefly solicitous of mere personal success. 
The world, which should be a happy scene of constant 
exertion and harmonious cooperation, becomes a field 
of rivalry, competition, and hostile struggle. It is true 
that God has not given to all the same excellences of 
mind and character ; but he naturally requires more of 
the strong than of the many less blessed. The little 
we may be able to do will not be cast in vain into His 
treasury ; nor need the weak and humble be filled whh 
any idle emulation of the conduct of others. Let each 
of us act earnestly, according to the measure of his 
powers, — rejoicing always in the prosperity of his 



AS MOTIVES. 329 

neighbor ; and though we may seem to accomplish 
httle, yet we shall do much, if we be true to the con- 
victions of the soul, and give the high example of an 
unselfish devotion to duty. This of itself is success ; 
and this is within the ambition of all. Life is no Ulys- 
sean bow, to be bent only by one strong and certain 
arm. There is none so weak as not to be able to use 
it. 

In the growth of the individual the intellect advances 
before the moral powers ; for it is necessary to know 
what is right before we can practise it ; and this same 
order of Progress is also observed in the race. Moral 
excellence is the bright, consummate flower of all pro- 
gress. It is often the peculiar product of age. And it 
is then, among other triumphs of virtue, that duty 
assumes her lofty place, while all personal ambition is 
abased. Burke, in that marvellous passage of elegiac 
beauty where he mourns his only son, says, — " Indeed, 
my Lord, I greatly deceive myself, if, in this hard sea- 
son, I would give a peck of refuse wheat for all that is 
called fame and honor in the world." And Channing, 
with a sentiment most unlike the ancient Roman orator, 
declares that, " he sees nothing worth living for but the 
divine virtue which endures and surrenders all things 
for truth, duty, and mankind." 

Such an insensibility to worldly objects, and such an 
elevation of spirit, may not at once be expected from 
all men, — certainly not without something of the trials 
of Burke or the soul of Channing. But it is within 
the power of all at least to strive after that virtue which 
it may be difficult to reach ; and, just in proportion as 
duty becomes the guide and aim of life, shall we learn 



330 FAME AND GLORY. 

to close the soul to the allurements of praise and the 
asperities of censure, while we find satisfactions and 
compensations such as man cannot give or take away. 
The world with ignorant or intolerant judgment may 
condemn ; the countenances of companions may be 
averted ; the hearts of friends may grow cold ; but the 
consciousness of duty done will be sweeter than the 
applause of the w^orld, than the countenance of com- 
panion, or the heart of friend. 

III. From this survey of the nature of Glory accord- 
ing to the common acceptance of men, and of its influ- 
ence as a motive of conduct, I advance to the third and 
concluding head of inquiry, — What are true Fame and 
Glory, and who are the men most worthy of honor ? 
The answer has been already implied, if not expressed, 
in much of the discussion through which we have 
passed. But it may not be without advantage to dwell 
upon it more at length. 

From an examination of the vicious and barbarous 
elements entering into the conception of Glory in times 
past, it is evident, that there must be a surer and higher 
standard than any which has yet been generally recog- 
nized. A degraded public opinion has naturally failed 
to appreciate excellences which were not in harmony 
with its own prejudices, while it has lavished regard 
upon conduct which we w^ould gladly forget. Genius, 
too, in all ages (such is the melancholy story of Hu- 
manity), has stooped to be the sycophant, the apologist, 
or the friend of characters never to be mentioned 
without disgust. The historian, the poet, and the phi- 
losopher, false to their sacred office, have too often 



TRUE GLORY. 331 

pandered to the praise of those who should rather have 
been gibbeted to the condemnation of mankind. Lucan, 
the youthful poet of freedom, in his Pharsalia, offers 
the incense of adulation to the monster Nero ; Quinc- 
tilian, the instructor, in his grave institutions of educa- 
tion, pauses to address the tyrant Domitian as holy ; 
•Paterculus, the historian, extols Tiberius and Sejanus ; 
Seneca, the philosopher, in his treatise on Consolation, 
condescends to flatter the imbecile Claudius ; while, not 
to multiply instances in modern times, Corneille, the 
grandest poet of France, has prefixed to one of his 
tragedies a tribute to the crafty and hateful miser, 
Mazarin ; and our own English Dryden has lent his 
glowing verse to welcome and commemorate a heart- 
less, unprincipled monarch and a servile court. 

Others, too, while refraining from eulogy, have un- 
consciously surrendered themselves to the sentiments 
and influences — the public opinion — of the age in 
which they lived, and have invested barbarous charac- 
ters and scenes — the struggles of selfishness and 
ambition, and even the movements of conquering rob- 
bers — with colors too apt to fascinate or mislead. 
Not content with that candor which should ever guide 
our judgment, alike of the living and the dead, they 
have yielded their sympathies even to injustice and 
wrong, when commended by genius or success, or when 
coupled with the egotism of a vicious patriotism. Not 
feeling practically the vital truth of Human Brotherhood, 
and the correlative duties which it involves, they have 
been insensible to the true character — often to the 
shame — of those transactions by which it has been 
degraded or assailed, and, in their estimate of conduct, 



332 FAME AJMD GLORY. 

have departed from that standard of Absolate Right, 
which must be the only measure of true and permanent 
Fame. 

But, whatever may be the temporary applause of 
men, or the expressions of public opinion, it may be 
asserted, without fear of contradiction, that no true and 
permanent Fame can he founded except in labors which 
promote the happiness of mankind. If these are per- 
formed by Christian means, with disinterested motives, 
and with the single view of doing good, they become 
that rare and precious virtue, whose fit image is the 
spotless lily of the field, brighter than Solomon in all 
his Glory. Earth has nothing of such surpassing love- 
liness. Heaven may claim it as its own. Such labors 
are the natural fruit of obedience to the Christian com- 
mandments of love to God and to man. Reason, too, 
in harmony with these laws, shows that the true dignity 
of Humanity is in the moral and intellectual nature ; 
and that the labors of Justice and Benevolence, directed 
by intelligence and abasing that part 'of our nature 
which we have in common with the beasts, are the 
highest forms of human conduct. 

In determining the praise of actions, there are four 
elements to be regarded : frst, the difficulties which 
have been overcome ; secondly, the means employed 
to overcome them ; thirdly, the motives of the actions ; 
and, fourthly, the extent of good which has been accom- 
plished. If the difRculties have been petty, or the 
means employed low, vulgar, unchristian, barbarous, 
there can be little worthy of the highest regard, although 
the motives have been pure and the results beneficent. 
If the motives have been selfish, — if a desire of power, 



TRUE GLORY NOT IN WAR. 333 

or wealth, or Fame intruded into the actions, — they 
lose that other title to regard which does not fail to 
spring from beauty and elevation of purpose, even where 
the conduct is mistaken or weak, and the results are 
pernicious. Home Tooke claimed for himself no mean 
epitaph, when he asked this inscription for his tomb : — 
" Here lies a man of good intentions^ Still further ; 
if little or no good arises from the actions, and they fail 
to be ennobled by any high and Christian motive, while 
the means employed are barbarous and unchristian, and 
the difficulties overcome are trivial, then surely there 
can be little occasion for applause, although worldly 
success, or the bloody eagle of victorious battle, shall 
attend them. 

And here we directly encounter the question. What 
measure of praise may be awarded to services in war, 
or to the profession of arms ? This question is impor- 
tant ; for, thus far, great generals and conquerors have 
attracted the largest share of admiration. They swell 
on the page of history. For them is inspiring music, 
the minute-gun, the flag at half-mast, the trophy, the 
monument. Fame is a plant whose most vigorous 
shoots seem to have grown on fields of blood. Are 
these perennial, amaranthine } or are they destined to 
droop and fall to the earth beneath the rays of the still 
ascending sun of Truth > 

There are not a few who will join with Milton in hi'? 
admirable judgment of martial renown : — 

- Tliey err who count it glorious to subdue 
By conquest far and wide, to overrun 
Large countries, and in field great battles \,'ii\, 
Great cities by assault. What do these worthies 
But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 



334 FAME AND GLORY. 

Peaceable nations, neighboring or remote, 
Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
Than those, their conquerors, who leave behind 
Nothing hut ruin, wheresoe'er they rove. 
And all the flourishing works of peace destroy ? * 

In harmony with this interesting testimony are the 
words of another of England's most remarkable charac- 
ters, Edmund Waller, — himself a poet, an orator, a 
statesman, a man of the world, — who has left on rec- 
ord his judgment of True Glory, in a valedictory poem, 
written at the age of eighty, when the passions of this 
world no longer obscured the clear perception of duty. 
At an earlier period of life, he had sung of war. Mark the 
change in this sw^an-like note, which might disenchant 
even the eloquence of Cicero, covetous of Fame : — 

Earth praises conquerors for shedding blood ; 

Heaven, those that love their foes and do them good. 

It is terrestrial honor to be crowned 

For strewing men, like rushes, on the ground ; 

True Glory 't is to rise above them all, 

Without the advantage taken by their fall. 

He that in fight diminishes mankind 

Does no addition to his stature find ; 

But he that does a noble nature show, 

Obliging others, still does higher grow; 

For virtue practised such an habit gives, 

That among men he like an angel lives ; 

Humbly he doth, and without envy, dwell, 

Loved and admired by those he does excel. 

Wrestling with death, these lines I did indite ; 
No other theme could give my soul delight. 
O that my youth had thus employed my pen, 
Or that I now could write as well as then 't 

* Paradise Regained, Book HI. v. 71. 
t Of the Glory of God, Canto 2. 



TRUE GLORY NOT IN WAR. 335 

Well does the poet give the palm to moral excel- 
lence ! But it is from the lips of a successful soldier, 
cradled in war, the very pink of the false heroism of 
battle, that we are taught to appreciate the literary- 
Fame, which, though less elevated than that derived 
from disinterested acts of beneficence, is truer and 
more permanent far than any bloody Glory. T allude 
to Wolfe, the conqueror of Quebec, who has attracted, 
perhaps, a larger share of romantic interest than any of 
the gallant generals in English history. We behold 
him, yet young in years, at the head of an adventurous 
expedition, destined to prostrate the French empire in 
Canada, — guiding and encouraging the firmness of his 
troops in unaccustomed difficulties, — awakening their 
personal attachment by his kindly suavity, and their 
ardor by his own example, — climbing the precipitous 
steeps which conduct to the heights of the strongest 
fortress on the American continent, — there, under its 
walls, joining in deadly conflict, — wounded, — stretched 
upon the field, — faint with the loss of blood, — with 
sight already dimmed, — his life ebbing fast, — cheered 
at last by the sudden cry, that the enemy is fleeing in 
all directions, — and then his dying breath mingling 
with the shouts of victory. An eminent artist has por- 
trayed this scene of death in a much admired picture. 
History and poetry have dwelt upon it with peculiar 
fondness. Such is the Glory of arms ! But there is, 
happily, preserved to us a tradition of this day, which 
affords a gleam of a truer Glory. As the commander 
floated down the currents of the St. Lawrence in his 
boat, under cover of the night, in the enforced silence 
of a military expedition, to eflfect a landing at an oppor- 



336 FAME AND GLORY. 

tune promontory, he was heard to repeat to himself 
that poem of exquisite charms, — then only recently 
given to mankind, now familiar as a household word 
wherever the mother tongue of Gray is spoken, — the 
Elegy in a Country Church-yard. Strange and unac- 
customed prelude to the discord of battle ! And as the 
ambitious warrior finished the recitation, he said to his 
companions, in a low but earnest tone, that he " would 
rather be the author of that poem than take Quebec." 
And surely he was right. The Glory of that victory 
is already dying out, like a candle in its socket. The 
True Glory of the poem still shines with star-bright, 
immortal beauty. 

But, passing from these high testimonies, let us ob- 
serve the nature of military Glory. Its most conspicuous 
element is courage. This was placed by the ancient 
philosophers among the four cardinal virtues ; Aristotle 
seems to place it foremost among the virtues. But it is 
evident, that, of itself, it is neither a virtue nor a vice. 
It is a quality which man possesses in common with a 
large number of animals. It becomes a virtue, when 
exercised in obedience to the higher sentiments, to pro- 
mote Justice and Benevolence by Christian means. It 
is of an humbler character, if these objects are pro- 
moted by Force, or that part of our nature which we 
have in common with beasts. It is unquestionably a 
vice, when, — divorced from Justice and Benevolence, 
— it lends itself to the passion for wealth, for power, or 
Glory. 

It is easy to determine that courage, — though of a 
lion or tiger, — when employed in an unrighteous 
cause, cannot be the foundation of a true and permanent 



TRUE GLORY NOT IN WAR. 337 

Fame. Mardonius and his Persian hosts in Greece, — 
Csesar and his Roman legions in Britain, — Cortes and 
his conquering companions in Mexico, — Pizarro and his 
band of robbers in Peru, — the Scandinavian Vikings in 
their adventurous expeditions of piracy, — are all ob- 
jects of unhesitating condemnation. Nor can our 
applause attend the hireling Swiss, or the Italian chief- 
tains of the Middle Ages, or the bought Hessians of the 
British armies, who sold their spears and bayonets to 
the highest bidder. And it is difficult to see how those, 
in our own day, who follow the trade of ar?ns, careless 
of the cause in which it is employed, or excusing them- 
selves by the orders of a fellow- mortal, can hope for 
greater sympathy. An early English poet, of mingled 
gaiety and truth, Sir John Suckling, — himself a pro- 
fessor of war, — places in the mouth of a Soldier a 
confession, which I fear is too true, of the reckless- 
ness of his life : — 

I am a man of war and might, 
And know thus much, that I can fight, 
Whether I am i' th' wrong or right, 
Devoutly. 

Surely, no True Glory can be achieved in such a 
spirit. And is not this necessarily the spirit of the 
soldier, who is regarded only as a " machine," and acts 
in unquestioning obedience to all orders ? No com- 
mand of government, or any human power, can sanc- 
tify wrong ; nor can any rules of military subordina- 
tion, — the product of the selfish craft of men, — nor 
any prejudices of an unchristian patriotism, dignify con- 
duct in violation of the heaven-born sentiments of Jus- 
tice and Benevolence. The inspiring inscription at 
VOL. I. 22 



338 FAME AND GLOKY. 

Thermopylae said, — "Stranger, tell at LacedGsmon, 
that we died here m obedience to her sacred laws;''' 
but the three hundred Spartans, who there laid down 
their lives, were stemming, in those narrow straits, the 
mighty tide of Xerxes, as it rolled upon Greece. 

To all defenders of freedom and their country the 
heart goes forth with cordial sympathy. May God de- 
fend the right !- Their cause, whether in victory or de- 
feat, is invested with the interest which, from the time 
of Abel, has attached to all who suffer from the vio- 
lence of their brother-man. But their unhappy strife 
can be regarded only as a token of the dishonorable 
BARBARISM of their age, — like the cannibalism of an 
earlier period, or the slavery of our own day. 

Not questioning the right of self-defence, nor under- 
taking to consider the sanctions of the Institution of 
war as an established Arbiter of Justice between na- 
tions, or its necessity in our age, we may all join in 
regarding it as an unchristian Institution and a melan- 
choly necessity, offensive in the sight of God, hostile to 
the best interests of men. A field of battle is a scene 
of execution, — according to the laivs of war, — with- 
out trial or judgment, but with a thousand Jack Ketches 
engaged in the dismal work. And yet the acts of har- 
dihood and skill, here displayed, are often entitled 
" brilliant." The movements of the executioners, in 
gay apparel, are said to be " brilliant.'" The destruc- 
tion of life is " brilliant." The results of the auto da 
fe are " brilliant." The day of this mournful tragedy 
is enrolled as " brilliant." And a Christian people are 
summoned to commemorate with honor a scene which 
should rather pass from the recollection of men. 



TRUE GLORY — NOT IN WAR. 339 

Let US be willing to be taught by a Heathen example ; 
even that of nnartial Rome. Recognizing the fellow- 
ship, which springs from a common country, the conflicts 
between citizens were regarded as fratricidal. Civil 
war was branded as guilt and crime. The array of 
opposing forces, drawn from the bosom of the same 
community, knit together by the same political ties, was 
pronounced impious ; even where they appeared under 
such well-cherished names as Pompey and Csesar : — 
Impia concurrunt Pompeii et Coesaris arma.* 

As a natural consequence, the victories in these frater- 
nal feuds were held to be not only unworthy of praise, 
but not to be mentioned without blame. Even if coun- 
tenanced by justice or dire necessity, they were none 
the less mournful. No success over brethren of the 
same country could he the foundation of true honor. 
And so firmly was this principle embodied in the very 
customs and institutions of Rome, that no thanksgivings 
or religious ceremonies were sanctioned by the Senate 
in commemoration of such success ; nor was the triumph 
permitted to the conquering chief whose hands were 
red with the blood of his fellow-citizens. Coesar forbore 
even to send a herald or messenger of his unhappy 
victories, and looked upon them with shame.f 

Recognizing the Christian truth, that r4od " hath made 
of one blood all nations of men," and that all his chil- 
dren are brethren, the distinctions of country disappear, 
and ALL WAR BECOMES FRATRICIDAL, whcre victory can 
be achieved only by shedding a brother's blood. The 



* Lucan. Pharsalia, Lib. VII. 195. 

t See lUuslraiions at the end of the Oration. 



340 FAME AND GLORY. 

soul shrinks from the contemplation of the scene, and, 
while refusing to judg« the act, confesses its unaffected 
sadness. 

The pomp is darkened and the day o'ercast. 

It was natural that the ancient Heathen, strangers to the 
sentiment of Human Brotherhood, should restrain their 
regards to the narrow circle of country ; as if there were 
certain magical lines within which strife and bloodshed 
are a shame and a crime, while beyond this pale they 
may become a great Glory. On entering battle, the 
Spartans sacrificed to the Muses, solicitous of the coun- 
tenance of these Divinities, to the end that their deeds 
of hardihood might be worthily described, and deeming 
it a heavenly favor that witnesses should behold them. 
Not so the Christian. He would rather pray that the 
recording angel would blot with his tears all recollection 
of the fraternal strife in which he was sorrowfully en- 
gaged. 

This conclusion, though repugnant to the sentiment 
of Heathenism, and also to the practice of Christian 
nations, stands on the adamantine foundation of the 
Brotherhood of Mankind. It is because this truth is 
still imperfectly recognized, that the Heathen distinction 
is yet maintained between civil war and foreign war. 
To the Christian, every fellow-man, whether remote or 
near, whether of our own or another country, is a 
" neighbor " and a " brother ; " nor can any battle, 
between hostile villages, or towns, or states, or coun- 
tries, be deemed otherwise than a shame ; like the civil 
wars of Rome, which the poet aptly said could bear no 
triumphs : — 



TRUE GLORY NOT IN WAR. 341 

Bella geri placuit ?iuUos habitura iriiunphos* 

The same mortification and regret with which we re- 
gard the dismal contest between the brothers of one 
household, the kinsmen of one ancestry, the citizens of 
one country, must attend the contemplation of every 
scene of strife ; for are we not all^ in a just and Chris- 
tian sense, brethren of one household, kinsmen of one 
ancestry, citizens of one country, — the world ? It is 
clear, then, that no success in arms against our fellow- 
men, — no triumph over brothers, who are flesh of our 
flesh and bone of our bone, — no destruction of the life 
which God has given to his children, — no assault upon 
his sacred image in the upright form and countenance 
of man, — no eflusion of the blood of any human being, 
under whatever apology of necessity it may be vindica'/ 
ted, can be the foundation of Christian Fame. 

Adverse as such conclusion may seem to the preju- 
dices of mankind, it cannot fail to meet sympathy in 
the refined and religious soul, and the inner heart of 
man ; while it is in harmony with those expressions, or 
imperfect utterances, which, in all ages, have borne 
testimony to the virtue whose true parent is Peace. 
The loving admiration, which spontaneously follows 
the Christian graces of the Scipios, often hesitates in 
presence of those scenes of blood which gave to them 
the unwelcome eminence of the " two thunderbolts of 
war." The homage, ever freely accorded to the acts of 
forbearance, of generosity, or forgiveness, which glow 
serenely by the spectral glare of battle, is a tacit rebuke 
to the hostile passions whose triumphant rage constitutes 



* Lucan. Pharsalia, Lil) 



342 FAME AND GLOKY. 

the Glory of arms. The wail of widows and orphans, 
and the sorrows of the innumerable company of mourn- 
ers, refusing to be comforted, often check even the 
gratulations of success. Stern warriors, too, in the 
paroxysm of victory, by unwilling tears, vindicate hu- 
manity, and condemn even their own triumphs. To 
more than one it has happened, in the dread extremities 
of death, to look back upon his career with regret, or 
perhaps, like the Duke of Luxembourg of France, to 
confess that he would cherish more deeply the memory 
of a cup of cold water given to a fellow-creature in 
poverty and distress, than all his victories, with their 
scenes of blood, desolation, and death. Thus has ever 
spoken the heart of man. No true Fame can flow 
from the fountain of tears. 

Satire has often touched to the quick the achieve- 
ments of war and the characters of conquerors { — 

Heroes are much the same, it is agreed, 
From Macedonia's madman to the Swede. 

It has laid bare the pettiness of the passions which ani- 
mate them, and the unsubstantial nature of their renown. 
Rabelais, who wrote in an age when Peace seemed only 
a distant vision, and whose own soul doubtless failed to 
appreciate its true glories, has given expression to those 
opinions often vague and undefined, which have their 
origin in the depths of the human soul. In that strange 
compound of indecency, satire, humor, effrontery, and 
learning, the Life of Pantagruel, one of his characters, 
after being very merry in hell, talking familiarly with 
Lucifer, and penetrating to the Elysian fields, recog- 
nizes some of the world's great men, but changed after 



TRUE GLORY — NOT IN WAR. 343 

a very strange manner. Alexander the Great was 
mending and patching old breeches and stockings, and 
thus got a very poor living. Achilles was a maker of 
hay-bundles ; Hannibal, a kettle-maker, and seller of 
egg-shells. " All the knights of the Round Table were 
poor day-laborers, employed to row over the rivers of 
Cocytus, Phlegethon, Styx, Acheron, and Lethe, when 
my lords the devils had a mind to recreate themselves 
upon the water, as on like occasion one hired the boat- 
men at Lyons, the gondoliers of Venice, and oars of 
London ; but with this difference, that these poor 
knights have only for their fare a bob or flirt on the 
nose, and in the evening a morsel of coarse and mouldy 
bread." * 

But, whatever may be the judgment of poets, of mor- 
alists, of satirists, or even of soldiers, it is certain that 
the Glory of arms still exercises no mean influence 
over the minds of men. The Art of War, which has 
been happily termed, by a French divine, the baleful 
art by which men learn to exterminate one another, t 
is yet held, even among Christians, to be an honorable 
pursuit; and the animal courage, which it stimulates and 
developes, is prized as a transcendent virtue. It will 
be for another age, and a higher civilization, to appre- 
ciate the more exalted character of the Art of Benefi- 
cence, — the art of extending happiness and all good 
influences, by word or deed, to the largest number of 
mankind, — while, in blessed contrast with the misery i 



* Book II. ch. 30. 

t " L'art mililaire, c'est a dire, I'art funeste d'apprendre aux 
hommes a s'extenniner les uns les autres." — Massillon, Oraisou 
Funebre de Louis le Grand. 



me 



344 FAME AND GLORY. 

the degradation, the wickedness of war, shall sh 
resplendent the True Grandeur of Peace. All then 
will be willing to join with the early poet* in saying 
at least : — 

Though louder Fame attend the martial rage, 
'Tis greater Glory to reform the age. 

Then shall the soul thrill with a nobler heroism than 
that of battle. Peaceful industry, with untold multi- 
tudes of cheerful and beneficent laborers, shall be its 
gladsome token. Literature, full of comfort and sym- 
pathy for the heart of man, shall appear in garments of 
purer Glory than she has yet assumed. Science shall 
extend the bounds of knowledge and power, adding un- 
imaginable strength to the hands of men, opening 
immeasurable resources in the earth, and revealing new 
secrets and harmonies in the skies. Art, elevated and 
refined, shall lavish fresh images of beauty and grace. 
Charity, in streams of milk and honey, shall diffuse itself 
among all the habitations of the world. Does any one 
ask for the signs of this approaching era ? The in- 
creasing beneficence and intelligence of our own day, 
the broad-spread sympathy with human suffering, the 
widening thoughts of men, the longings of the heart 
for a higher condition on earth, the unfulfilled promises 
of Christian Progress, are the auspicious auguries of 
this Happy Future. As early voyagers over untried 
realms of waste, we have already observed the signs of 
land. The green twig and fresh red berry have floated 
by our bark ; the odors of the shore fan our faces ; nay, 
we may seem to descry the distant gleam of light, and 

* Waller. 



TRUE GLORY — NOT IN WAR. 345 

hear from the more earnest observers, as Columbus 
heard, after midnight, from the mast-head of the Pinta, 
the joyful cry of Land ! Land ! and lo ! a New World 
broke upon his early morning gaze. 

A new order of heroes and of great men shall then 
be recognized, while the history of the past will be re- 
viewed, to re-judge the Fame that has been awarded or 
withheld. There are many, who have found high place 
in the world's praise, from whom the countenance of 
the righteous Future shall be averted, and who at last 
vvill encounter the neglect which has thus far been the 
lot of better men ; but there are others, little regarded 
during life, sleeping in humble or unknown earth, who 
shall become the darlings of True Glory. At Athens 
there was an altar dedicated to the Unknown God. The 
time is at hand, when the company of good men, whose 
lives have been without record or monument, shall at 
last find an altar of praise. 

Then shall be cherished, not merely those who, from 
accident of birth, or in selfish struggles, have succeeded 
in attracting the attention of mankind ; not merely those 
who have commanded armies in barbarous war ; not 
merely those who have exercised power or sw^ayed an 
empire ; not merely those who have made the world 
tributary to their luxury and wealth ; not merely those 
who have cultivated knowledge, regardless of the eleva- 
tion of their fellow-men. Neither present Fame, nor 
war, nor power, nor wealth, nor knowledge, alone, can 
secure an entrance to this true and noble Valhalla. 
Here shall be gathered those only who have toiled, 
each in his vocation, for the welfare of the race. Man- 
kind will remember those only who have remembered 



346 FAME AND GLORY. 

mankind. Here, with the apostles, the prophets, and 
the martyrs, shall be joined the glorious company of 
the world's benefactors, — the goodly fellowship of the 
servants of truth and duty, — the noble army of states- 
men, orators, poets, preachers, scholars, men in all 
walks and departments of life, who have striven for the 
happiness of others. If the soldier finds a place in this 
sacred temple, it will be not because, but notwithstand- 
ing, he was a soldier. 

God only is great, is the admired and triumphant ex- 
clamation with which Massillon commences his funeral 
discourse on the deceased monarch of France, called 
in his own age Louis the Great. It is in the attributes 
of God that we are to find the elenients of true great- 
ness. Man is great by the godlike qualities of Justice, 
Benevolence, Knowledge, and Power. And as Justice 
and Benevolence are higher than Knowledge and Pow- 
er, so are the just and benevolent higher than those 
who are intelligent and powerful only. Should all these 
qualities auspiciously concur in one person on earth, 
then we might look to behold a mortal, supremely en- 
dowed, reflecting the image of his Maker. But even 
Knowledge and Power, without those higher attributes, 
cannot constitute true greatness. It is by his goodness 
that God is most truly known ; so also is the Great Man. 
When Moses said unto the Lord, — "Show me thy 
Glory," — the Lord said, — " I will make all my good- 
ness pass before thee." * 

* Exodus xxxiii. 13, 19. It was a saying of Heathen Antiquity, 
that to do good to a mortal was to be a God to a mortal, and this is 
the way to everlasting Glory: " Deus est mortali juvare mortalem, 
et hoec ad Kternam Gloriam via." — Plin. Hist. H. 7. 



TRUE GLORY. 347 

It will be easy now to distinguish between those who 
are merely memorable in the world's annals and those 
who are truly great. If we pass in review the historic 
names to whom flattery or a false appreciation of char- 
acter has expressly awarded this title, we shall find its 
grievous inaptitude. Alexander, drunk with victory 
and with wine, whose remains, after death at the early 
age of thirty-two, were borne on a golden car through 
conquered Asia, was not truly great. Caesar, the rava- 
ger of distant lands, and the trampler upon the liberties 
of his own country, with an unsurpassed combination 
of intelligence and power, was not truly great. Louis 
the Fourteenth of France, the magnificent spendthrift 
monarch, prodigal of treasure and of blood, and pant 
ing for renown, was not truly great. Peter of Russia 
the organizer of the material prosperity of his country 
the murderer of his own son, despotic, inexorable, un 
natural, vulgar, was not truly great. Frederic of Prus 
sia, the heartless and consummate general, skilled in 
the barbarous art of war, who played the game of 
robbery with " human lives for dice," was not truly 
great. Surely, there is no Christian grandeur in their 
careers. None of the Beatitudes showered upon them 
a blessed influence. They were not poor in spirit, or 
meek, or merciful, or pure in heart. They did not 
hunger and thirst after Justice. They were not peace- 
makers. They did not suffer persecution for Justice's 
sake. 

It is men like these, that the good Abbe St. Pierre, 
of France, in works that deserve well of mankind, has 
termed Illustrious^ in contradistinction to Great. Their 
influence has been extensive, their power mighty, their 



348 FAME AND GLORY. 

names famous ; but they were grovelling, selfish, and 
inhuman in their aims, with little of love to God and 
less to man. 

There is another and a higher company, who thought 
little of praise or power, but whose lives shine before 
men with those good works w^hich truly glorify their 
authors. There is Milton, poor and blind, but " bating 
not a jot of heart or hope ; " in an age of ignorance, 
the friend of education ; in an age of servility and 
vice, the pure and uncontaminated friend of freedom ; 
tuning his harp to those magnificent melodies which 
angels might stoop to hear; and confessing his supreme 
duties to Humanity in words of simplicity and power. 
" I am long since persuaded," was his declaration,* 
" that to say or do aught worth memory and imitation, 
no purpose or respect should sooner move us than love 
of God and mankind." There is St. Vincent de Paul, 
of France, once in captivity in Algiers. Obtaining 
his freedom by a happy escape, this fugitive slave de- 
voted himself with divine success to labors of Christian 
benevolence, to the establishment of hospitals, to visiting 
those in prison, to the spread of amity and peace. 
Unknown, he repaired to the galleys at Marseilles, and, 
touched by the story of a poor convict, personally 
assumed his heavy chains, that he might be excused to 
visit his wife and children. And when France was 
bleeding with war, this philanthropist appears in a 
different scene. Presenting himself to her powerful 
minister, the Cardinal Richelieu, on his knees he says, 
— " Give us peace ; have pity upon us ; give peace to 

* Tract on Educaiion. 



TRUE GLORY. 349 

France."* There is Howard, the benefactor of those 
on whom the world has placed its brand, whose charity 
— like that of the Frenchman, inspired by the single 
desire of doing good — penetrated the gloom of the 
dungeon, as with angelic presence. " A person of 
more ability," he says,t with sweet simplicity, " with 
my knowledge of facts, would have written better, but 
the object of my ambition was not the Fame of an au- 
thor. Hearing the cry of the miserable^ I devoted my 
time to their relief.'''' And, lastly, there is Clarkson, 
who, while yet a pupil of the University, commenced 
those life-long labors against slavery and the slave- 
trade, which have embalmed his memory. Writing an 
essay on the subject as a college exercise, his soul 
warmed with the task, and at a period when even the 
horrors of the " middle passage " had not excited con- 
demnation, he entered the lists, the stripling champion 
of the Right. He has left a record of the moment 
when this duty seemed to flash upon him. He was on 
horseback, on his way from Cambridge to London. 
" Coming in sight of Wade's Mill, in Hertfordshire," 
he says, j: I sat down disconsolate on the turf by the 
road-side, and held my horse. Here a thought came 
over my mind, that, if the contents of my Essay were 
true, it was time some person should see these calamities 
to their end.'''' Pure and noble impulse to a beautiful 



* Biographie Universelle, article, Vincent de St. Paul, 
i Howard's Slate of the Prisons, p. 4G9. 

+ Clarkson's History of the Abolition of the Slave Trade, Vol. 
p. 171. 



350 FAME AND GLORY. 

Such are some of the exemplars of True Glory. 
Without rank, office, or the sword, they accomplished 
immortal good. While on earth, they labored for their 
fellow-men; and now, sleeping in death, — by their 
example and their works, — they continue the same 
sacred office. To all, in whatever sphere or condition 
of life, they teach the same commanding lessons of 
magnanimous duty. From the heights of their virtue, 
they call upon us to cast out ^ the lust of power, of 
office, of wealth, of praise, of a fleeting popular favor, 
which " a breath can make, as a breath has made ; " 
to subdue the constant, ever-present suggestions of self^ 
in disregard of those neigbors, near or remote, whose 
happiness should never be absent from our mind ; to 
check the madness of party, which so often, for the 
sake of success, renounces the very objects of success ; 
and, finally, to introduce into our lives those lofty senti- 
ments of Conscience and Charity which animated them 
to such godlike labors. Nor should these be mere 
holiday virtues, marshalled on great occasions only. 
They must become a part of us, and of our existence ; 
ever present in season and out of season, in all the 
amenities of life ; in those daily offices of conduct and 
manner which add so much to its charm, as also in 
those grander duties whose performance evinces an 
ennobling self-sacrifice. The first are as the flowers, 
whose odor is pleasant, though fleeting ; the latter are 
like the precious ointment from the box of alabaster 
poured upon the head of the Lord. 

To the supremacy of these principles let us all con- 
secrate our best purposes and strength. So doing, let 
us reverse the very poles of the worship of past ages. 



TRUE GLORY. 351 

Men have thus far bowed down before stocks, stones, 
insects, crocodiles, golden calves, — graven images, 
often of cunning workmanship, wrought with Phidian 
skill, of ivory, of ebony, of marble, — but aW false gods. 
Let them worship in future the true God, our Father as 
he is in heaven, and in the beneficent labors of his chil- 
dren on earth. Then farewell to the Syren song of a 
worldly ambition ! Farewell to the vain desire of mere 
literary success or oratorical display ! Farewell to the 
distempered longings for ofRce ! Farewell to the dis- 
mal, blood-red phantom of martial renown ! Fame 
and Glory may then continue, as in times past, the re- 
flection of public opinion ; but of an opinion, sure and 
steadfast, without change or fickleness, enlightened by 
those two suns of Christian truth, love to God and love 
to man. 

From the serene illumination of these duties, all the 
forms of selfishness shall retreat, like evil spirits at the 
dawn of da}'. Then shall the happiness of the poor 
and lowly, and the education of the ignorant, have 
uncounted friends. The cause of those who are in 
prison shall find fresh voices ; the majesty of Peace 
other vindicators ; the sufierings of the slave new and 
gushing floods of sympathy. Then, at last, shall the 
Brotherhood of Mankind stand confessed ; ever filling 
the souls of all with a more generous life, ever prompt- 
ing to deeds of Beneficence ; conquering the FIcathen 
prejudices of country, color, and race ; guiding the 
judgment of the historian ; animating the verse of the 
poet and the eloquence of the orator ; ennobling 
human thought and conduct, and inspiring those good 
works by which alone we may attain to the heights of 



352 FAME AND GLORY. 

7 True Glory. Good Works ! Such even now is the 
Heavenly Ladder, on which angels are ascending and 
descending, while weary Humanity, on pillows of stone, 
slumbers heavilv at its feet. 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



REFERRED TO ON PAGE 339. 



Civil War a Crime. — The terms which are employed by the 
Roman writers, in describing civil war, implicate bolh sides in its 
guilt and dishonor. Such phrases as the following occur in the 
Pharsalia of Lucan : — ^^ civile nefas '' (Lib. IV. 172); " civil is 
Erinnys" (IV. 187); '^ crimen civJe mrfemizs " (VII. 398). Eu- 
tropius says : — " Huic jam helium civile successit, exsecrandura et 
iacrijmabile.'" (Historiae Romanae, Lib. VI.) Of the war between 
Sylla and Marius, Florus says : — " Hoc deerat unum populi Ro- 
mani malis, jam ut ipse intra se parricidiale helium domi stringeret ; 
et in urbe media ac foro, quasi arena, cives cum civibus suis gla- 
diatorio more concurrerent. ^Equiore animo utcunque ferrem, si 
plebeii duces, aut si nobiles, mali saltern, ducatum sceleri prasbuis- 
sent ; quum vero, pro /acinus ! qui vivi ! qui imperatores ! decora 
et ornamenta sseculi sui, Maiius et Sylla, pessimo facinori suam 
eliam dignitatem prcebueruni." (Lib. III. cap. 21.) The condem- 
nation of the historian is here aroused, not because of the wicked- 
ness of a contest among fellow-men, but among felIo\v-t77/;rer7s ; and 
because illustrious personages joined in it. But he is impartial iu 
condemning both sides. Marius and Sylla alike are treated as 
criminals. The same judgment seems to be expressed with regard 
to Ceesar and Pompey. " Cccsaris furor atque Pompeii^ urbem, 
Italiam, gentes, nationes, totum denique qua palebat imperium, quo- 
dam quasi diluvio et inflammatione corripuit ; adeo ut non recte 
tantum civile dicatur ; ac ne sociale qnidem ; sed nee externum ; sed 
potius commune quoddam ex omnibus, et plus quam helium.''' (Flo- 
rus, Lib. IV. cap. 2.) His description of what was called the 
Social War contains a principle which must condemn equally all 

VOL. I 23 



354 ILLUSTRATIONS. 

strife among cognate nations or states: — " Sociale bellum vocelur 
licet, ut extenuemus invidiam ; si verum tamen volumus, illud civile 
bellum fuit. Quippe quum populus Romanus Etruscos, Latinos, 
Sabinosque miscuerit, et unum ex omnibus sanguinem ducal ; cor- 
pus fecit ex membris, et ex omnibus unus est. Nee minore Jlag-itio 
socii intra ItaJiam, qiiam intra urbem cites rebellabant." (Lib. IIL 
cap. 17.) 

At? triumph, thanksgiving', or holiday, for a conqueror in Civil 
War. — "Valerius Maximus, in his chapter on Triumphs, shows how 
the victories of civil war were regarded in Rome, "Although," he 
says, " any one should perform illustrious and highly useful acts to the 
republic in civil war. he was not on this account hailed as Imperator ; 
nor were any thanksgivirigs decreed ; nor did he enjoy a triumph or 
ovation ; because, howsoever necessary these victories might be, they 
icere ahcays regarded as mournful, inasmuch as they were obtained, 
not hy foreign, but hy domestic blood. Therefore Nasica and Opim- 
ius sorrowfully slew, the one the faction of Tiberius Gracchus, and 
the other that of Caius Gracchus. Quintus Catulus, after subduing 
his colleague, Marcus Lepidus, with all his seditious forces, re- 
turned to the city, shoicing only a moderated joy. Even Caius An- 
tonius, the conqueror of Catiline, carried back to the camp the 
swords cleansed. Lucius Cinna and Caius Marius thirstily drained 
the blood of civil war ; but they forbore to approach immediately the 
temples and the altars of the gods. So also, Sylla, — who waged to 
a close many civil wars, — whose successes were most cruel and inso- 
lent — at his triumph, after the establishment of his power, carried 
in his procession the pictures of many Greek and Asiatic cities, but 
of no toicn belonging to Roman citizens. It is grievous and weari- 
some to dwell longer on the wounds of the Republic. Nor did the 
Senate ever give the laurel to any conqueror, nor did any one desire 
that it should be given to himself, ichile any portion of the Common- 
wealth xcas in tears. Lauream nee Senatus cuiquam dedit, nee quis- 
quam sibi dari desideravit, civitatis parte lachrymante." (Valerius 
Maximus, Lib. IL cap. 8, § 7.) Florus, at the close of his chapter 
on the war with Sertorious, says, that the conquering generals 
wished that this should be considered di foreign rather than a civil 
war, that they might triumph : " Victores duces externum id magis 
quam civile bellum videri voluerunt, ut triumpharent." (Florus, 
Lib. IIL cap. 22.) Caesar did not triumph over Pompey ; but, at a 
later day, shocked his fellow-citizens by a triumph over the sons of 
that leader. " All the world,'^ says Plutarch, in his life of Ctesar, 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 355 

*' condemned his triumphing- in the calamities of his country, and re- 
joicing" in things which nothing" could excuse, either before gods or 
men, but extreme necessity. And it was more obvious to condemn 
it, because, before this, he had never sent any messenger or letter to 
acquaint the public with any victory he had gained in the civil wars, 
but Idas rather ashamed of such advantages." 

A similar judgment of the contests and battles beiiceen citizens 
may be found in other writers. Appian, speaking of Caius Grac- 
chus, says, that " all averted their countenances from him, as a man. 
polluted icith the blood of a citizen." (De Bellis Civilibus, Lib. I. c. 
25.) And the same author, when describing the triumphs of Cae- 
sar, says, that " he was ashamed professedly to triumph over the 
Romans, his own fellow-citizens, as this xcould not be creditable to 
himself and icould be shameful and disagreeable to the Roman peo- 
ple." (Lib. IL c. 101.) We may also follow this sentiment in the 
History of Dion Cassias. After describing the victory over Cati- 
line, he says, that " the victors much deplored the Commonwealth, 
because they had slain so many and such persons, although just- 
ly, but nevertheless citizens and allies." (Lib. XXXVIL §40.) 
Thus the justice of the war did not make it a source of Glory. 
Dion says, that Pompey, after his success over Caesar at Dyrrachi- 
um, "did not speak boastfully of it, nor did he wreath his fasces 
with laurel, deeming it umcorthy to do this on account of citizens 
conquered, nor did he send letters to the Republic announcing his 
acts." (Lib. XLI. § 52.) The manner in which he alludes to 
CtEsar's conduct is also in harmony with the other Heathen writers. 
•' Caesar," he says, " sent no letters to the Republic on the battle of 
Pharsalia, being unwilling to appear to rejoice in such a victory ; 
wherefore he did not celebrate any triumph on account of it." (Lib. 
XLH. § 18.) But he pursued a different course with regard to his 
victory over the foreigner Pharnaces, which he announced to the 
Senate in that famous cpigramatic epistle, — " Veni, vidi, vici." 
Dion says : — " Coesar boasted much of this victory, although it was 
not conspicuous." (Lib. XLH. §48.) The same historian alludes 
to his triumph over the sons of Pompey, " having conquered no 
foreigner, but destroyed so large a number of citizens." (Lib. 
XLHL §42.) Crowns were decreed to Octavius Caesar, after his 
victories over Antony; "but," says Dion, " they did not expressly 
name Antony, and the other Romans conquered with him, either at 
first or then, as if it was icrong to have holidays on account of 
them.'' (Lib. LL§I9.) 



356 ILLTSTRATIONS. 

laternational War as criminal, and little worthy of honor as Civil 
War. — Erasmus dealt a blow at the distinction, still preserved 
among Christians, between civil war a.ndf oreig-n war. Plato civile 
bellum esseputat, quod Greed gerunt advcrsus Grcecos. At Christia- 
nus Christiano proprius junctiis est, quam civis civi, quam fratcr 
fratri. (Erasmi Epist. Lib. XXII. Epist. 16.) But even here he 
seems to recognize, rather the Brotherhood of Christians than the 
Brotherhood of Mankind. Assuming the latter, all international war 
becomes as criminal, and little worthy of honor as civil war. It is a 
war among brothers. 

Who can think of the contest between the two brothers, Eteocles 
and Polynices, without feeling that both sides were wrong? Who 
would think of awarding Glory to Abel, if he had succeeded, in self- 
defence, in slaying his hostile brother, Cain ? There is a play of 
Beaumont and Fletcher, in which two brothers are represented as 
drawing swords upon each other. When finally separated, they 
are addressed in words that might be applied to the contests of 
nations : — 

Clashing of swords 

So near my house ! Brother opposed to brother ! 

Hold, hold, Charles ! Eustace ! 

But these unnatural jars 

Arising between brothers, should you prosper. 

Would shame your victory. 

The Elder Brother, Act V. Sc. 1. 

The unreasonableness of expecting any True Glory in such a contest 
is felt by all, at the present day, though there have been monsters 
or barbarians who gloried even in a kinsman's blood. Massinger, 
in his play of The Unnatural Combat, has portrayed such a charac- 
ter. A father and son are represented as fighting with each other. 
The father is victorious. His exultation in the death of his son is 
not unlike that which often attends the victories of Christian na- 
tions : — 

Were a new life hid in each mangled limb, 

I would search and find it ; and howsoe'er to some 

I may seem cruel thus to tyrannize 

Upon this senseless flesh, I glory in it, 

my falling o-Zorifs 

Being made up again, and cemented 

With a son's blood. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 357 

The father, with hands wet with a son's blood, is thus address- 
ed : — 

The conqueror that survives 
HJust reap the harvest of his bloody labor ; 
Sound all loud instruments of joy and triumph. 

Act II. So. 1. 

The soul revolts from such a triumph ; but how does this differ 
from the triumphs of war? Surely the Christian morality of our age 
must confess that it is equally wrong to commemorate, by thanks- 
giving or holiday, any bloody success, even in s. just contest, over 
our brother-man. 



THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. AN ORA- 
TION BEFORE THE PHI BETA KAPPA SO- 
CIETY OF UNION COLLEGE, SCHENECTADY, 
JULY 25, 1848. 



Secta fuit servare modum, finemque tenere, 
Naturamque sequi, patriceque impendere vitam, 
Non sibi, sed toti genilum se credere mundo. 

LUCAN. 



THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 



From opposite parts of the country, from various 
schools of sentiment, we have come together at this 
happy anniversary, to interchange salutations, to mingle 
in friendly communion, and to listen to such words of 
cheer as the occasion shall convey. Here are the 
young, with the freshest laurel of Alma Mater, with 
joy brightening and hope elevating the countenance ; 
still unconscious of the toils which enter into the duties 
of the world. Here are they, too, of middle life, — 
on whose weary foreheads the sun now pours his me- 
ridian rays, — resting for a moment in these pleasant 
retreats to renew their strength. And here, also, are 
the fathers, crowned with length of days, and rich with 
the fruits of ripened wisdom, removed at last from 
active struggles, and dwelling much in meditation upon 
the Past. The Future, the Present, and the Past, all 
find their representatives in our Fraternity. 

I speak of our Fraternity ; for though a stranger 
among you, yet as a member of this society in a sister 
University, and as a student of letters in moments 



3C2 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

withdrawn from other pursuits, I may claim kindred 
here. Let me speak then as to my own brethren. 
Invited by your partial kindness, it is my privilege 
here to-day to unfold some subject, which, while claim- 
ing your attention during this brief hour, may not 
improperly mingle with the memories of this Anniver- 
sary. I would if I could utter truth, which, while 
approved by the old, should sink deep into the souls 
of the young, filling them with strength for all good 
works. Mindful, then, of the occasion ; deeply con- 
scious of its requirements ; solicitous of the harmony 
which becomes our literary festivals, I cannot banish 
from my thoughts a topic, which is intimately con- 
nected with the movements of the present age ; nay, 
which explains and controls these movements, whether 
manifested in the march of science, in the triumphs of 
charity, in the wide-spread convulsions of Europe, or 
in the generous uprising of our own country in behalf 
of Freedom. 

Wherever we turn is Progress — in science, in lit- 
erature, in knowledge of the earth, in knowlege of the 
skies, in intercourse among men, in the spread of Lib- 
erty, in the works of beneficence, in the recognition 
of the Brotherhood of Mankind. Thrones on which 
Authority seemed to sit secure with the sanction of 
centuries have been shaken, and new-made constitutions 
have come to restrain the aberrations of unlimited pow- 
er. Everywhere men, breaking away from the Past, 
are pressing on to the things that are before. 

Meditate for one moment on what has taken place 
during a brief span of time, hardly exceeding a year. 
I do not dwell on that mighty revolution, in France, 



PROGRESS. 363 

with whose throes the earth still shakes, and whose 
issues are yet unrevealed ; I do not pause to contem- 
plate the character of that Pontifical Reformer, who 
has done so much to breathe into Europe the breath of 
a new life ; I can only point to Sicily and Naples 
rising against a besotted tyranny ; to Venice and Lom- 
bardy claiming their long-lost rights ; to all Italy filled 
with the thought of Unity ; to Hungary flaming with 
republican fires ; to Austria roused at last against a 
patriarchal despotism ; to Prussia, taking her place 
among constitut'onal states ; to Germany, in its many 
principalities, throbbing with the strong pulse of Free- 
dom. All these things are present to your minds. 

But there are other events of a different character, 
which are not less signs of the age. Discovery has 
achieved one of its most brilliant, as also one of its 
most benign results. The genius of Leverrier, trav- 
ersing the spaces of the heavens, has disclosed a new 
planet. By the application of ether, the dreaded pain 
of the surgical knife, and even the pangs of nature, 
have been soothed or removed, while Death himself has 
been disarmed of something of his terrors. 

But these latter times have witnessed two spectacles 
of another nature and less regarded, which are of sin- 
gular significance in the history of Christian Progress 
— harbingers, I would call them, of those glad days of 
promise which we may almost seem to touch. I would 
not exaggerate their importance ; and yet I must speak 
of them as they impress my own mind. To me they 
are of a higher order than any discovery in science, or 
any success in the acquisition of knowledge, or any 
political prosperity, inasmuch as they are the tokens of 



364 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

that elevation of morals, and of those precious senti- 
ments of Human Brotherhood, without distinction of 
condition, of nation, or of race, which it is the supreme 
office of all science, of all knowledge, and of all poli- 
tics, to serve. I refer to the sailing of the Jamestown 
from Boston with succor to the starving poor of Ireland, 
and to the meeting of the Penitentiary Congress at 
Frankfort. All confess the beauty of that act, in which 
prophecy seems nearly fulfilled, by which a Ship of 
War was consecrated to a purpose of charity. Hardly 
less beautiful is the contemplation of that assembly at 
Frankfort (perhaps it is new to some whom 1 have the 
honor of addressing) where were delegates from most 
of the Christian Nations ; from military France, Hol- 
land, Belgium, Switzerland, the States of Germany, 
England, Spain, Italy, Denmark, Poland, distant Rus- 
sia, and frozen Norway ; convened for no purpose of 
war or diplomacy; not to agitate selfish coalitions; 
not to adjust or disturb the seeming balance of Europe ; 
not to exalt or abase the vaulting ambition of potentate 
or state ; but calmly and in fraternal council to con- 
sider what could be done for the welfare of those who 
were in prison ; to listen to the recital of efforts in their 
behalf among all the nations, and to encourage each 
other to perseverance in this work. Surely such a 
Congress forms a truer epoch of Christian Progress 
(does it not?) than the Congress of Vienna, with the 
bespangled presence of the autocrats of Europe dis- 
posing of the spoils of war ; as the sailing of the 
Jamestown is a higher Christian triumph than any 
mere victory of blood. 
Profoundly penetrated by these things, you will con- 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 365 

fess the Progress of Man. The earnest soul, enlight- 
ened by history — strengthened by philosophy — nursed 
to childish slumber by the simple prayer of the Saviour, 
" Thy kingdom come ; thy will be done on earth as it is 
in Heaven " — confident in the fi^nal though slow fulfill- 
ment of the daily fulfilling promises of the Future — 
looks forward to the continuance of this Progress, dur- 
ing unknown and infinite ages, as a Jaw of our being. 

It is of this that I propose to speak to-day. My sub- 
ject is The Law of Human Progress. In selecting 
this theme, I trust not to seem to minister to the pride 
or gratulation of the Present, or to furnish motives for 
indifl?erence or repose. Rather from the contempla- 
tion of this Law, let us derive new impulses to act in 
conformity with it ; well knowing that the duties of 
life can be adequately performed, only by obedience 
to the laws of God. 

The subject is vast, as it is interesting and important. 
It might well occupy a volume, rather than a brief dis- 
course. In unfolding it, I shall speak jfzrs^ of the his- 
tory of this Law, of its origin, of its gradual development 
and recognition ; and next of its character, its con- 
ditions and limitations, with the duties which it seems 
to enjoin, and the encouragements which it affords. 

I. And, first, of its history. The recognition of this 
Law has been reserved for comparatively recent times. 
Like other general laws, governing the courses of 
nature, it was unknown to antiquity. The ignorance 
and prejudice which then prevailed with regard to the 
earth, and the heavenly bodies and their relations to 



366 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

the rest of the universe, found fit companionship with 
the wild speculations concerning the Human Race. 
The ignorant live only in lhe Present, whether of time 
or place. What they see and experience bounds their 
knowledge. Thus to the early Greek the heavens 
seemed to be upborne by the mountains, and the sun 
traversed daily in fiery chariot from east to west. So 
things seemed to him. But the true Destiny of the 
Human Race was as litde comprehended. 

The origin and history of Man were surrounded with 
fable ; nor was there any correct idea with regard to 
the principles which' determine the succession of events. 
The revolutions of states were referred sometimes to 
chance, sometimes to certain innate elements of decay. 
Plutarch did not hesitate to ascribe the triumphs of 
Rome — not to the operation of immutable laws — but 
to the fortune of the Republic. And Polybius, whom 
Gibbon extols for his wisdom and his philosophical 
spirit, said that Carthage being so much older than 
Rome, felt her decay so much the sooner ; and the sur- 
vivor, he foresaw, carried in her bosom the seeds of 
mortality. The image of youth, manhood, and age, 
was applied to nations. Like mortals on earth, they 
were supposed to have a period of life and a length of 
thread, spun by the Fates, strong at first, but thinner 
and weaker with advancing time, till at last it was cut, 
and another nation, with newly-twisted thread, com- 
menced its career. 

In likening the life of a nation to the life of an indi- 
vidual man, there was an error, commended by seem- 
ing truth, which is not entirely banished from the world. 
It still prevails with many, who have not yet received 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 367 

the Law of Human Progress, teaching that all revolu- 
tions and changes are but links in the chain of develop- 
ment — or turns, it may be, in the grand spiral line — 
by which the unknown infinite Future is connected with 
the Past. Nations have decayed ; but it has never 
been with the imbecility of age. 

The ancients saw that there were changes in history ; 
but they were unable to detect the principles governing 
these changes, while a favorite fable and popular super- 
stition conspired to turn the attention back upon the 
Past, rather than forward to the Future. In the dawn 
of Greece, Hesiod, — standing near the Father of Po- 
etry — sang the descending mutations through which 
Mankind had seemed to travel. First came, so he 
fabled, the Golden Age, when men lived secure, with- 
out care, without toil, without the ills or weariness of 
life, in peaceful, pleasant association, with all manner 
of good, upon the plentiful fruits which the earth spon- 
taneously bore. This was followed by the Silver Age, 
when a race, inferior in form and in disposition, dwelt 
upon the earth. The next was the Brazen Age, still 
descending in the scale, when men became vehement 
and robust, strong in body and stern in soul, building 
brazen houses, wielding brazen weapons, prompt to 
war, but not yet entirely wicked. The last, and un- 
happily his own, according to the poet, was the Iron 
Age, when straightway all evil raged forth ; neither by 
day nor yet by night did men rest from labor and sor- 
row; discord took the place of concord ; the pious, the 
just, and the good, were without favor ; the man of 
force and the evil-doer were cherished ; modesty and 



868 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

justice yielded to insolence and wrong. War now pre 
vailed, and men lived in wretchedness.* 

Such, according to the Greek poet, was the succes 
sion of changes to which mankind had been doomed 
This fable found a response. It was repeated by phi 
losophy and history. Plato adorned and illustrated it 
Strabo and Diodorus imparted to it their grave sanction 
It was carried to Rome, with the other spoils of Greece 
It was reproduced by Ovid, in flowing verses that have 
become a common-place of literature. It was recog- 
nized by the tender muse of Virgil, by the sportive 
fancy of Horace, and the stern genius of Juvenal. 
Songs and fables have ever exerted a powerful control 
over human opinion ; nor is it possible to estimate the 
influence of this story in shaping unconsciously the 
thoughts of mankind. It is easy to understand that the 
youth of Antiquity — let me say, too, the youth of later 
ages — nay, of our own day, in our own schools and 
colleges — nurtured by this literature, should learn to 
turn from the Future, and rather regard the Past. The 
words of Horace have afforded a polished expres*sion to 
this prejudice of education : — 

Damnosa quid non imminuit dies ? 
iEtas parentum, pejor avis, tulit 

Nos nequiores, mox daturos 

Progeniem vitiosiorem. 

But barren as classical literature may be in any just 
recognition of the continuity of events, in any true ap- 
preciation of the movement of history, or in any well- 
defined confidence in the Future, it were wrong to say 



* Hesiodi, Opera et Dies, 103-207. 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 369 

that it did not find a voice, which seemed, in harmony 
with the prophets and the evangelists, to proclaim the 
advent of a better age. Virgil, in his Eclogue to Pollio 
— the exact meaning of which is still a riddle — breaks 
forth in words of vague aspiration, which have some- 
times been supposed to herald from Heathen lips the 
coming of the Saviour. The blessings of Peace are here 
foreshadowed, and the Golden Age seems to be, not 
only behind, but also before us. Thus, has the human 
heart, notwithstanding the prejudice of superstition and 
the constraint of isfnorance, in its longings for a better 
condition on earth, gone forward and heralded the way, 
in which Mankind, strengthened by intelligence, and 
elevated by morals and religion, were to follow ! 

To the superstitions of Heathenism succeeded the 
superstitions of the Christian Church. The popular doc- 
trine of an immediate millennium, inculcated by a suc- 
cession of early fathers, took the place of ancient fable ; 
and a Golden Age was placed in advance to animate the 
hopes and perseverance of the faithful. It was believed 
that the anxieties and strifes, filling the lives of men, 
were all to be lost in a blissful Sabbath of a thousand 
years, when Christ with the triumphant band of saints 
would return to reign upon earth until the last and gen- 
eral resurrection. Vain and irrational as was the early 
form of this anticipation, it was not without its advan- 
tages. It filled the souls of all who received it with 
aspirations for the Future, while it rudely prefigured 
that period — still, alas ! too distant — when the whole 
world shall glow in the illumination of Christian truth. 
In the history of the means by which the Law of 
Human Progress has found acceptance, it were wrong 

VOL. I. 24 



370 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

not to mention this prophetic vision of the ancient 
Church. 

But all the legitimate inflaences of Christianity were 
in the same direction. Christianity is the religion of 
Progress. There is no single element or feature it 
possesses, so peculiar and distinctive as this, which we 
seek in vain in any of the Heathen forms of faith pro- 
fessed upon earth. Confucius, in his sublime morals, 
taught us to do unto others as we would have them do 
unto us ; but the Chinese philosopher did not declare the 
ultimate triumph of this law. It was reserved for the 
Sermon on the Mount to reveal the vital truth, that all 
the highest commands of religion and duty, drawing in 
their train celestial peace and happiness upon earth, 
and marking the final distant goal of all Progress among 
men, shall one day be obeyed. " For verily I say unto 
you," says the Saviour, " till heaven and earth pass, 
one jot or one tittle shall in no wise 'pass from the 
Laiv, till all hefuljilledy 

There is nothing of good so vast or beautiful, nothing 
so distant or seemingly inaccessible, as to be beyond 
the reach of these promises. Though imperfectly un- 
derstood, or dimly discerned, in the night of ignorance 
and prejudice, they have been the heralds of the dawn. 
In the advance of Modern Europe, they have led the 
way, whispering, Onward forever. Long before phi- 
losophy had deduced from history the Law of Human 
Progress, the Gospel had silently planted it in the 
human heart. There it rested, powerfully, though 
gently, influencing the march of events. 

Slowly did it pass from the formularies of devotion 
into the convictions of reason and the treasury of 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 371 

science. Strange blindness ! They who, in repeating 
the Lord's prayer, daily called for the coming of his 
kingdom on earth ; who professed implicit faith in the 
final fulfillment of the Law ; still continued in Heathen 
ignorance of the true significance and spirit of the 
Prayer, which they daily uttered, and of the Law 
which they daily recognized. They did not perceive 
that the kingdom of the Lord was to come, and that tlie 
Law was to be fulfilled by a continuity of daily labors. 
As modern civilization gradually unfolded itself, amidst 
the multiplying generations of men, they witnessed the 
successive manifestations of power ; but perceived no 
Law. They looked upon the imposing procession of 
events, as they came sweeping by ; but did not discern 
the rule which guided the mighty series. They passed 
from triumph to triumph ; they saw their dominion ex- 
tended by the discoveries of intrepid navigators ; they 
saw learning strengthened by the studies of accom- 
plished scholars ; they saw universities opening their 
portals to ingenuous youth in all corners of the land, 
from Aberdeen and Copenhagen to Toledo and Ferrara; 
they saw art put forth new graces in the painting of 
Raphael, new grandeur in the painting, the sculpture, 
and the architecture of Michael Angelo ; they caught 
the strains of poets, no longer confined by the idioms 
of a foreign tongue, but flowing sweetly and strongly 
in the language learned at a m.otlier's knee ; they re- 
ceived the manifold revelations of science in geometry, 
in mathematics, in astronomy; they saw the barbarism 
of the barbarous Art of Y\^v.r changed and refmed — 
though barbarous still — by the invention of gunpow- 
der ; they saw knowledge of all kinds spring to iin- 



372 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

wonted power through the marvellous agency of the 
Printing Press ; they read the character of the good 
Man of Peace, as described in that work of unexam- 
pled circulation, translated into all modern languages, 
the Imitation of Christ, by Thomas a Kempis ; they 
listened to the apostolic preaching of Wickliffe in Eng- 
land, of Huss in Bohemia, of Savonarola in Florence, 
of Luther at Worms ; and yet all these things, — the 
harmonious expression of the progressive energies of 
Man — the token of an untiring advance — the earnest 
of a mightier Future, — seemed to teach no certain 
lesson. 

The key to this advance had not been found. It was 
not seen, that the constant desire for improvement, 
implanted in men, with the constant effort consequent 
thereon in a life susceptible of indefinite Progress, natu- 
rally caused, under the laws of a beneficent God, an 
indefinite advance; that the evil passions of individuals, 
or of masses, while unquestionably retarding, could not 
permanently restrain this divine impulse ; and that 
each generation, by an irresistible necessity, added to 
the accumulations of the Past, and in this way prepared 
for a higher Future. To persons ignorant of this ten- 
dency, history was not a chain of causes and effects, 
wherein the effect of to-day becomes the cause of to- 
morrow, but a disconnected irregular series of inci- 
dents, like separate and confused circles, having no 
common bond. It was a dark chaos, embroiled by 
"chance, high arbiter," or swayed by the accidental 
appearance of an individual man, of fortunate position 
and power. Even IMacchiavelli, the most consummate 
historian and politician of his age, — Bodin, the able 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 373 

speculator upon Government, — Bossuet, the eloquent 
teacher of religion and history, — Grotius, the illus- 
trious founder of the Laws of Nations, — minds from 
whom to expect an appreciation of the true philosophy 
of events, — all failed to recognize in them any pre- 
vailing Law. They did not discern their governing 
principles. 

It was reserved to a professor at Naples, Giarabattista 
Vico, in the early part of the last century, to review 
the history of the Past, to analyze its movements, and 
finally to disclose the existence of a primitive rule or 
Law, by which these movements had been affected. 
His work entitled, The Principles of a New Science 
{Principi rZ' una Scienza Nuova,) first published in 
1725, undoubtedly constitutes an epoch in historical 
studies. It has been supposed by his recent Italian 
admirers to vindicate for its author a place among the 
great discoverers, by the side of Descartes, Galileo, 
Bacon, and Newton.* Without undertaking to ques- 
tion, or to adopt this exalted homage to a name little 
known, all will agree, that as the author of an elabo- 
rate work, devoted expressly to the philosophy of his- 
tory, at a period when history was supposed to be 
without philosophy, he deserves honorable mention. 

Yico taught us to regard, not merely the individual 
and the nation, but the race, and showed that, whatever 
may have been the fortunes of individuals. Humanity 
had advanced ; that no blind or capricious chance can 
control the course of human affairs ; but that all that is 



* Cataldo Jannelli, Cenni Sulla Nalura et Necessita della Scienza 
delle Cose et delle Storie Umane. Cap. 3, § 6. 



374 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

done must proceed directly, under God, from the forces 
and faculties of men, and thus can have no true cause, 
except in the nature of things, — excluding of course 
the idea of chance. He recognized three principles 
as lying at the foundation of civilization ; first, the ex- 
istence of Divine Providence, secondly, the necessity of 
moderating the passions, and thirdly, the immortality of 
the soul : these three primal truths answering to as 
many grand historical facts of universal acceptance in 
all nations and all times, religion, marriage, and sepul- 
ture. Three stages, according to him, had marked the 
history of mankind ; first, the divine, or theocratic ; 
next, the heroic ; and lastly, the human. These ap- 
peared in Antiquity, and were reproduced, as he fan- 
cied, in Modern Times. Here, then, was not only an 
ingenious and novel analysis of the Past, but an enun- 
ciation of certain principles, which were essential to the 
life of society, and which necessarily influenced its 
affairs. To this extent the theory of Vico is important. 

But v/hile recognizing Humanity as governed by 
Laws, he failed to perceive, that these same Laws pro- 
mise to conduct it through unknown and infinite stages. 
He was perplexed by the treacherous image of youth, 
manhood, and age, and seemed to suppose, that nations 
were to turn in a vicious circle of change, reaching the 
last point only to fall away and repeat again the same 
series of transitions. 

Meanwhile a gigantic genius in Germany, — whose 
vision, no less comprehensive than penetrating, em- 
braced the whole circumference of knowledge, and 
reached into the undiscovered Future ; to whom the 
complexities of mathematics, the subtleties of philology, 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 375 

the mazes of philosophy, the courses of history, the 
rules of jurisprudence, and the heights of theology, 
were all equally familiar, — Leibnitz, that more than 
imperial conqueror in the realms of universal knowl- 
edge, — the greatest, perhaps, of Fluman Intelligences, 
— clearly enunciated the Law of Progress in all the 
sciences and all the concerns of life. The Present, 
born of the Past, he said, is pregnant with the Future. 
It is by a sure series that we shall advance, using and 
enjoying all our gifts for the health of the body and 
the improvement of the mind. Every thing, from the 
simplest substance up to man, proceeds to\yards God, 
the Infinite Being, source of all other beings ; and in 
bold words, which may require explanation in order 
to be received, he says, Man seems to be able to arrive 
at perfection. Videtur liomo ad perfectioncm venire 
posse.* 

Leibnitz saw the Lav/ of Progress, as by intuition ; 
but, though guided by it in many things, it does not 
appear that he fully appreciated its transcendent import- 
ance, as a rule of conduct, and allowed his great pow- 
ers to be fully penetrated by its influence. The good 
time had not come for its perfect work. And yet re- 
cognizing this Law, the gates of the Future seemed to 
open to him ; and he saw Man in the distant perspective, 
arrived at heights of happiness which he cannot nov/ 
conceive ; he saw the vision of Universal Peace no 
longer as a vision, but as the practical idea of humane 
statesmen; while hebent his incomparable genius to 

* Leibnitz, Opera Omnia, ed. Dutens, Vol. VI. p. 309 ; Ut sem- 
per certa scrie pro^redi valcamus. Op. Philosophica, Art. XI. p. 85, 
De Sciealia Universali; Tlieodicee, § 341. 



376 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

the discovery of a new agent of intercourse among 
men — sought also by other philosophers since his 
day, — a Universal Language, in which the confusion 
of tongues shall be forgotten, and the union of hearts 
be consummated in the union of speech. 

In Germany, Leibnitz was soon followed by Lessing, 
the regenerator of the literature of his country, who 
recognized this law. And almost by the side of Less- 
ing comes Herder, one of the most gifted minds of a 
gifted people, who in his Philosophy of History,* shows 
Humanity moving ever forward, from the small begin- 
nings of ignorance and barbarism, when wrong and 
war and slavery prevail, to the recognition of reason 
and justice as the rule of life. "There is nothing en- 
thusiastical," he says in that work, which is now one 
of the classics of German prose, " in the hope, that 
wherever men dwell, at some future period will dwell 
men rational, just and happy ; happy, not through the 
means of their own reason alone, but of the common 
reason of the whole fraternal race." 

Thus much for the early recognition of this Law in 
Italy and Germany. It is in France, however, that we 
can trace its most complete development, by a suc- 
cession of masters of human thought. First, in the mid- 
dle of the sixteenth century, came Descartes, often 
called the chief of French philosophy. His life was 
filled by triumphs of intellect, and his spirit after death 
seemed for a long time to rule all the departments of 
study. Like the universal soul of the Stoics, it was 
everywhere. Though not formally enunciating the 

* Philosophic der Geschichte der Menschheit, Book XV. chap. 5. 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 377 

Law of Progress, he acknowledged its influence in 
natural science, in his Discourse on ]\Iethod, first pub- 
lished in 1637.* " The experience which I have in 
physics," he says, " teaches me that it is possible to 
arrive at a knowledge of many things which will be 
very useful to life, and that we may yet discover 
methods, by which man, comprehending the force and 
the action of fire, of water, of the air, of the stars, of 
the skies, and of all the other bodies, which now en- 
viron us, as distinctly as we comprehend the different 
trades of our artisans, shall be able to employ them in 
the same fashion for all the usages to which they are 
appropriate, and thus shall render himself master and 
possessor of nature." " In these new triumphs of 
knowledge, men may learn to enjoy the fruits of the 
earth without trouble ; their health will be improved, 
and they will be able to exempt themselves from an 
infinitude of ills, as well of the body as of the mind, 
and even, perhaps, from the weakness of age." As I 
repeat these words, uttered long before the steam- 
engine, the railroad, the electric telegraph, and the use 
of ether, I seem to listen to a prophecy — the prophecy 
of science — which each day helps to fulfill. " With- 
out speaking whh disrespect of others," he continues, 
" I am sure that even those engaged in these matters 
will confess that all which they know, is almost as 
nothing by the side of what remains to be known." 

From Descartes I pass to Pascal, a great name not 
to be mentioned without a tribute to the early genius 
which, although removed from life at the age of thirty- 

* CEuvres de Descartes, Vol. I. p. 192, 193, Discours de la Me- 
thode, § 6. 



378 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

nine, has left an ineffaceable trace upon the religion, 
the science, and the literature of his time. The Law 
of Progress received from him its earliest and most 
distinct statement as a rule of philosophy, applicable 
to all the sciences which depend upon experience and 
reason. It is to be found in his posthumous work, of 
eloquent piety and sentiment, Les Pensees^ first pub- 
lished in 1669, some time after his death, by his com- 
panions of the Port Royal ; and it is not a little curious, 
as an illustration of the prejudices which stood in the 
way of this truth, that the chapter, wherein it is set 
forth, entitled Of Author if y in Matters of Philosophy, 
was suppressed in this early edition. It was not until 
the next century, that the testimony of Pascal was dis- 
closed to the world. " By a special prerogative of the 
human race," he says, " not only each man advances 
day by day in the sciences, but all men together make 
a continual Progress, as the universe grows old ; be- 
cause the same thing happens in the succession of 
men which takes place in the different ages of an indi- 
vidual. So that the succession of men, in the course' of 
so many ages, may be regarded as 07ie man, who lives 
always, and who learns continually. From this we see 
with what injustice we respect Antiquity in philoso- 
phers; for, since old age is the period most distant 
from infancy, who does not see that the old age of 
this universal 7nan must not be sought in the times 
nearest his birth, but in those which are the most re- 
mote. They, whom we entitle Ancients, were indeed 
new in all things, and properly formed the infancy of 
mankind ; and since to their knowledge we have joined 
the experience of the ages which have followed them, 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 379 

it is in ourselves that is to be found that Antiquity 
which we revere in the others." 

These remarkable words of Pascal, even while yet 
unpublished, found an echo. The memorable contro- 
versy in France, which occupied the close of the sev- 
enteenth century, with regard to the comparative merits 
of the Ancients and Moderns, opened the way for a 
discussion of the principles of Progress, particularly 
in the arts and in literature. The larger part of the 
critics of the time, under the lead of Boileau, espoused 
the cause of the Ancients. Against these, Charles 
Perrault — conspicuous among the scholars of his age, 
and still pleasantly remembered as the introducer into 
Western Europe of Fairy Tales — entered the list in 
an elaborate effort, entitled Parallcle des Anciens et 
des Modernes^ en ce qui regarde les Arts et les Sciences^ 
published in 1692. In this work, which has been 
admired for its scholarship, no less than its true philoso- 
phy, he vindicates the Moderns, reviewing the produc- 
tions of Antiquity in various departments, and, while 
admitting the degree of perfection to which they had 
arrived, showing the necessary advantages and accu- 
mulations from the subsequent experience of the human 
family. He too, like Pascal — though it does not ap- 
pear that the words of the latter were known to him — 
sees the life of Humanity as the life of an individual 
man eternal ; and, though recognizing crises or epochs 
of retrogression in history, he declares the continuous 
progress of the race, not only in the sciences, but also 
in morals and in the arts. 

This sentiment found similar utterance in a lively 
contemporary, Fontenelle, of whom at least this may 



380 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

be said, that he lived to the greatest old age of any per- 
son in the history of literature, dying at the age of one 
hundred, after devoting all that unusual length of days 
to the exclusive pursuit of letters. '* A good mind," 
says this veteran,* " cultivated and of our age, is, so to 
speak, composed of all the minds of preceding ages ; 
there is but one and the same mind that has been cul- 
tivated during this period. So that this man, who has 
lived from the beginning of the world to the present, 
has had his infancy, when he was occupied only with 
the more pressing demands of life; his youth when he 
has succeeded sufficiently well in matters of imagina- 
tion, such as poesy and eloquence, and when he has 
begun to reason, but with less of solidity than of fire ; 
and he is now in the age of manhood, when he reasons 
with more force and intelligence than ever ; but he would 
be yet further advanced, if the passion for war had 
not for a long time occupied him, and given to him a 
contempt for the sciences to which he has at last re- 
turned. This same man, to speak properly, will know 
no old age ; he will be ever capable of the things to 
which his 3^outh was apt, and ever more and more 
capable of those which belong to the age of manhood. 
That is to say, to quit the allegory, men do not degene- 
rate, and the sound views of all the good minds that 
succeed them will be added always one to the other." 
Thus, in France, was the Law of Progress confessed 
in the sciences, by Descartes and Pascal — in literature, 
in the arts, and even in morals by Perrault and Fonte- 



* CEuvres de Fontenelle. Vol. II. p. 249 — Digressions sur les An- 
ciens et les Modernes. 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 381 

nelle. All this was before the expiration of the seven- 
teenth century. It still remained, that it should be 
distinctly announced, not only as a special Law of cer- 
tain departments, but as a general Law of Humanity, 
of universal application, guiding men in all their labors, 
and erecting before them a goal of aspiration and of 
certain triumph. This was done, by a person, who 
was not a philosopher only, not a statesman only, not a 
philanthropist only, but in whom this triumvirate of 
characters was blended with rare success — Turgot, the 
well-loved minister of Louis XVI. It was said of him, 
by Voltaire, that " he was born wise and just ; " and this 
remark has especial point when it is considered that 
his views on this Law were first put forth in an Essay, 
written in 17.50, at the age of twenty-three, while he 
was yet a student. Let it be mentioned in his praise, 
that, as he grew in years, in power, and in fame, he 
did not depart from the happy intuitions of his early 
life, or forget the visions which, as a young man, he 
had seen. He perceived clearly the advance which 
had already been made, and from it drew assurances 
of yet farther advance. In reason, in knowledge, and 
in virtue, he did not hesitate to place his own age 
before the ages which had preceded it. " The corrupt 
of to-day," he was accustomed to say, " would have 
been capuchins a hundred years ago." He regarded 
■ the capacity for indefinite improvement, as one of the 
distinctive qualities of the human race, belonging to 
the race in general, and to each individual in particu- 
lar. He believed, for example, that the progress of 
the physical sciences, of education, of method in the 
sciences, or the discovery of new methods, would 



3S2 THE LAW OF HUMAN PrtOGRESS. 

contribute to enlarge the powers of men, and to ren- 
der them capable of preserving a larger number of 
ideas in the memory, and of multiplying their rela- 
tions. He believed that the moral sense was equally 
capable of improvement ; that men would become 
constantly better in proportion as they were enlight- 
ened ; that the advance of society would necessarily 
keep pace with the advance of morals ; that poli- 
tics, founded, like the other sciences, upon observation 
and reason, would advance also ; that all useful truths 
must be finally known and adopted by men, while 
ancient errors will be annihilated by degrees, or 
will give place to new truths ; and that this Progress, 
increasing always from age to age, has no term, or has 
none which can be assigned in the present state of our 
inteUigence.* 

These views, commended by the earnestness of con- 
viction, were, doubtless, not without their influence upon 
the great movement, which ended in the earlier revo- 
lution of France, or rather, they were a part of that 
movement. They found a welcome in many bosoms. 
There is 3^et another Frenchman, of the last century, 
who bore an emphatic testimony to their truth, and 
whom it would be wrong to omit in this history. I 
refer to the Marquis Condorcet. This unfortunate 
nobleman, conspicuous for his learning and genius, 
particularly in mathematics, and for his devotion to the 
principles of the Revolution, when at last proscribed, 
and compelled to flee for his life, — pursued by the 
very dogs he had helped to arouse, but was impotent 

* Vie cle M. Turgot, par Condorcet, pp. 12, 278-233. 



ITS HISTORY AND RECOGNITION. 3S3 

to restrain, — sought shelter with a friend, where in 
concealment, he passed the last eight months of his life. 
His first thought here was, to send forth a vindication 
of himself, addressed to his fellow-citizens ; but soon 
renouncing this design, he devoted what remained to 
him of life — during that most hateful passage of hu- 
man history, the Reign of Terror in Paris — to the 
preparation of a work, in which he has brought all his 
various powers to the development of the LaAv of Hu- 
man Progress. It is entitled the Sketch of an Historical 
Table of the Progress of the Pluman JMind, Esguisse 
(Tim Tableau des Progrcs de V Esprit Humain. Here 
he has reviewed human society in its different stages — 
unfolding the order of its changes and the influences 
which have been transmitted from age to age ; and 
pointing out the different steps in the march towards 
truth and happiness. From observation of man as he 
has been, and of man as he is to-day, he passes natu- 
rally to the consideration of the new triumphs, which 
are his certain destiny, so long as he continues to pos- 
sess the faculties with which he has been endowed, and 
to be governed by the same universal Laws. 

Thus wrote Condorcet, while the sword of the assas- 
sin yet waited. And here properly closes this branch 
of our subject. The high lineage and authority of this 
Law I have traced, not by the testimony of the enthu- 
siasts of Humanity ; not by Fenelon, or Saint Pierre ; 
not by Diderot or Rousseau ; but b}^ a succession of 
minds, who are our acknowledged guides in science, in 
philosophy and history. The torch was held aloft in 
Italy by Vice ; in Germany, by Leibnitz, Lessing, 
and Herder ; in France, it passed through the hands 



384 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

of Descartes, Pascal, Perrault, Fontenelle, Turgot, and 
Condorcet, 

Et, quasi cursores, vitai lampada Iradunt, 

till at last, at the close of the eighteenth century, its 
flame was seen from afar. It is with regret, I add, that 
we seem to be little indebted to England for early illus- 
trations of this Law. It appears, however, in the very 
title of Lord Bacon's Advancement of Learning ; also 
in his declaration, that Antiquity was the youth of the 
world, Aniiquitas scECuU,juventus mundi ; * and in his 
aspiration to deliver man from his present weakness, 
by extending his power over nature. It was cordially 
embraced at a later day by Dr. Price, the correspondent 
and friend of Turgot. t 

To the eighteenth century, then, belongs the honor 
— signal honor I venture to call it — of first distinctly 
acknowledging and enunciating that Law of Human 
Progress, which, though preached in Judea eighteen 
hundred years ago, had failed to be received by men ; 
nay, which still fails to be received by men. Writers 
in our own age, of rare ability and of unexampled har- 
dihood of speculation, while adopting this fundamental 
Law, have proceeded to arraign the existing institutions 
of society. My present purpose does not require me 
to consider these, whether for censure or for praise — 
abounding as they do in evil, abounding as they do in 
good. It has been my single aim to follow through the 
Past the gradual development, and final establishment 
of that great Law, which teaches that " there is a good 

* De Augmenlis Scienliarum, Lib. I. 

t There is a sermon by Dr. Price, published in 1787, on The Evi- 
dence of a Future Period of Improvement in the State of Mankind. 



ITS CHARACTER AND VINDICATION. 385 

time coming " — that there is a Future even on earth, 
an " All hail hereafter," to arouse the hopes, the aspi- 
rations, and the energies of IMan. 

II. The way is now prepared for a consideration of 
the true character, conditions, and limitations of this 
Law, of the duties which it seems to enjoin, and the 
encouragements which it affords. 

Let me state the Law as I understand it. Man, as 
an individual, is capable of indefinite improvement. 
Societies and nations, which are but aggregations of 
men, and, finally, the Human Race, or collective Hu- 
manity, are capable of indefinite improvement. And 
this is the Destiny of man, of societies, of nations, and 
of the Human Race. 

In thus restraining the proposition to the capacity for 
indefinite improvement, I believe I must commend it to 
the candor and intelligence of all who have meditated 
upon this subject. And this brings me to the remarka- 
ble words of Leibnitz. We have already seen that he 
boldly says, that man seems to be able to arrive at 
perfection ; and Turgot and Condorcet also speak of 
the " perfectibility" of man — a term which has been 
adopted by many recent French writers. If by this is 
meant simply, that man is capable of indefinite improve- 
ment, then it will not be questioned. But whatever may 
be the heights of virtue and intelligence at which he 
shall arrive in future ages, who can doubt that to his 
grander vision new summits will ever present them- 
selves, provoking him to still grander aspirations? 
God only is perfect. Knowledge and virtue, which 
are his attributes, are infinite ; nor can man hope, in 

VOL. I. 25 



885 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

any lapse of time, to comprehend this immensity. In 
the infinitude of the universe, he will seem, hke New- 
ton, with all his acquisitions, only to have gathered a 
few stones by the margin of the sea. It is in a similar 
strain that Leibnitz elsewhere distinctly says, that the 
place which God has assigned to man in space and 
time, necessarily bounds the perfections which he has 
been able to receive. As in geometry, the asymptote 
may constantly approach its curve, so that the distance 
between them is constantly diminishing, and yet, though 
prolonged indefinitely, they can never meet, so, ac- 
cording to him, are infinite souls the asymptotes of 
God. 

There are revolutions in history which may seem, 
on a superficial view, inconsistent with this Law. Our 
attention, from early childhood, is directed to Greece 
and Rome ; and we are sometimes taught that these 
two states reached heights which subsequent nations 
cannot hope to equal, much less surpass. Let me not 
disparage the triumphs of the ancient mind. The elo- 
quence, the poetry, the philosophy, the art of Athens 
still survive, and bear no mean sway upon the earth. 
Rome, too, yet lives in her jurisprudence, which, next 
after Christianity, has exerted a paramount influence 
over the laws of modern States. 

But exalted as these productions may be, it is impos- 
sible not to perceive, that something of their present 
importance is derived from the peculiar period in which 
they appeared ; something from the habit of unques- 
tioning and high-flown admiration with regard to them, 
which has been transmitted through successive genera- 



ITS CHARACTER AND VINDICATION. 3S7 

tions ; and something also from the disposition, still 
prevalent, blindly to elevate antiquity at the expense 
of subsequent ages. Without here undertaking to de- 
cide the question of the supremacy of Greek or Ro- 
man genius, as displayed in individual minds, it would 
be easy to show, that the ancient standard of civilization 
never reached the heights of many modern States. 
The people were ignorant, vicious, and poor, or de- 
graded to abject slavery, — slavery itself the sum of 
all injustice and all vice. And even the most illustrious 
characters, whose names still shine from that distant 
night with stellar brightness, were little more than 
splendid barbarians. Architecture, sculpture, painting, 
and vases of exquisite perfection, attested their appre- 
ciation of the beauty of form ; but they were strangers 
to the useful arts, as well as to the comforts and virtues 
of home. Abounding in what to us are luxuries of life, 
they had not what to us are its necessaries. 

Without knowledge there can be no sure Progress. 
Vice and barbarism are the inseparable companions of 
ignorance. Nor is it too much to say, that, except in 
rare instances, the highest virtue is attained only through 
intelligence. And this is natural ; for in order to do 
right, we must first understand what is right. But the 
people of Greece and Rome, even in the brilliant days 
of Pericles and x\ugustus, were unable to arrive at this 
knowledge. The sublime teachings of Plato and Soc- 
crates — calculated in many respects to promote the 
best interests of the race — were restrained in their 
influence to the small company of listeners, or to the 
few who could obtain a copy of the costly manuscript 
in which they were preserved. Thus the knowledge 



388 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

and virtue, acquired by individuals, failed to be diffused 
in their own age or secured to posterity. 

But now at last, through an agency all unknown to 
antiquity, knowledge of every kind has become general 
and permanent. It can no longer be confined to a 
select circle. It cannot be crushed by tyranny or lost 
by neglect. It is immortal, as the soul from which it 
proceeds. This alone renders all relapse into barba- 
rism impossible, while it affords an unquestionable dis- 
tinction between Ancient and ]\rodern Times. The 
Press, watchful with more than the hundred eyes of 
Argus — strong with more than the hundred arms of 
Briareus — not only guards all the conquests of civili- 
zation, but leads the way to future triumphs. Through 
its untiring energies, the meditations of the closet, or 
the utterances of the human voice, which else would 
die away within the precincts of a narrow room, are 
prolonged to the most distant nations and times, with 
winged words circling the globe. We admire the genius 
of Demosthenes, of Sophocles, of Plato, and of Phidias ; 
but the printing-press is a higher gift to man than the 
eloquence, the drama, the philosophy, and the art of 
Greece. 

There is yet another country which presents a prob- 
lem for the student of Progress. In vivid phrase Sir 
James Mackintosh pictures " the ancient but immovaUe 
civilization of China." * But in these words he spoke 
rather from impressions, than from actual knowledge. 
By the side of the impulsive movement of modern 
Europe, the people of this ancient country may seem 

* Lecture oa the Law of Nature and of Nations. 



ITS CHARACTER AND VINDICATION. 389 

Stationary ; but it can hardly be doubted that they have 
advanced, though according to a scale unhke our own. 
It may be difficult to assign satisfactory reasons for the 
seeming inertness of their national life. Perhaps I shall 
not err, if I refer it to the peculiar constitutional char- 
acteristics of this people ; to the inherent difficulties 
of their language as an instrument of knowledge ; and 
also to the habit of unhesitating deference to antiquity, 
and of " backward-looking thoughts," which has been 
cultivated by the Chinese from the distant days of Con- 
fucius. They do not know the Law of Human Pro- 



In receiving this Law, two conditions of Humanity 
are recognized ; first, its unity or solidarity ; and sec- 
ondly, its indefinite duration upon earth. And now of 
these in their order. 

L It is true, doubtless, that there are various races 
of men ; but there is but one great Human Family ; in 
which Caucasian, Ethiopian, Chinese, and Indian, are 
all brothers, children of one Father, and heirs to one 
happiness. Though variously endowed, they are all 
tending in the same direction ; nor can the light which 
is obtained by one be withheld from all. The ether 
discoveiy in Boston shall soothe pain hereafter in Afri- 
ca and in Asia, in Abyssinia and in China. So are we 
all knit together, that the words of wisdom and truth, 
which first sway the hearts of the American people, 
shall yet help to elevate the benighted tribes of the most 
distant regions. The vexed question of modern science, 
whether these races proceeded originally from one stock, 
does not interfere with the sublime revelation of Chris- 



390 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

tianity, the Brotherhood of Mankind. In the hght of 
science and of religion, Humanity is an organism, com- 
plex but still one ; throbbing with one life ; animated 
by one soul ; every part sympathizing with every other 
part ; and the whole advancing in one indefinite career 
of Progress. 

2. And what is the measure of this career ? It is 
common to speak of the long life already passed by 
Man on earth ; but how brief and trivial is this com- 
pared with the untold ages before him ! According to 
our received chronology, six thousand years have not 
yet elapsed since his creation. But the science of 
Geology, that unquestioned interpreter of the Past, now 
demonstrates (and here the geology of New York has 
only recently furnished important evidence) that this 
globe had endured for ages upon ages, baffling human 
calculation or imagination, before the commencement 
of the history of Man. Without losing ourselves in the 
stupendous speculations with regard to the different 
geological epochs, before the earth assumed its present 
figure, and when it was occupied only by races of ani- 
mals, now extinct, it may not be without interest to 
glance at an illustration of the age of the epoch in 
which we live. This happily we are able to do. 

From the flow of rivers, we have a gigantic measure 
of geological time. It is supposed that the falls of 
Niagara were once at Queenstown, and that they have 
gradually worn their way back in the living rock, for a 
distance of seven miles, to the place where they now 
pour their thunders. An ingenious English geologist, 
a high authority in his science, Sir Charles Lyell, as- 
suming that this retreat might have been at the rate of 



ITS CHARACTER AND VINDICATION. 391 

one foot a year, has shown that the cataract must have 
been falhng over that rock for a period of at least 
36,960 years. And the same authority has taught us, 
that the alluvion at the mouth of the Mississippi — the 
delta formed by the deposits of that mighty river — 
(here let it be remarked that the alluvions and sand- 
banks are the most recent geological formations on the 
surface of the earth — they are the nearest to our own 
age,) could not have been accumulated within a shorter 
tract of time than 100,500 years.* And even this 
period, so vast to our small imagination, is only one of 
a series, composing the present epoch ; and the epoch 
itself is but a unit in a still grander series. These 
measurements, adopted by our masters in this depart- 
ment of knowledge, can be little more than vague 
approximations; but they teach us, from the lips of 
science, as perhaps nothing else can, the infinite ages 
through which this globe has already travelled, and the 
infinite ages which seem to be its Future Destiny. 

Thus we now stand between two infinities ; — the 
infinity of the Past and the infinity of the Future ; and 
the infinity of the Future is equal to the infinity of the 
Past. In comparison with these untold spaces, before 
and after, what, indeed, are the six thousand years of 
human history! In the contemplation of Man, what 
littleness ! What grandeur ! How diminutive in the 
creation ! How brief his recorded history ! And yet 

* Lyell's Principles of Geology, (7th ed.) Vol. I. p. 210; Lyell's 
Travels in North America, cap. 2; Horner's Anniversary Address, 
for 1847, before the London Geological Society, pp. 23-27; His- 
toire des Progres de la Geologic par le Vicomie D'Archiac, Tom. I. 
p. 358. 



392 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

how vast in hopes ! How majestic and transcendent in 
the Future ! 

If there be any analogy between his Hfe on earth, 
and that of the frailest plant or shell-fish, as now seen 
in the light of science, he must still be in his earliest 
and most helpless infancy. In vain do we speak of 
Antiquity in his history ; for all his present records 
are as a day, an hour, a moment, in the unimaginable 
immensity of duration which seems to await the globe, 
and its inhabitants. In the sight of our distant descend- 
ants, all the eras of the brief span, which we call history, 
shall fade into one ; and, as 1o our present vision, stars 
far asunder seem near together, so Nimrod and Sesostris, 
Alexander and Ca3sar, Tamerlane and Napoleon, shall 
seem to be contemporaries. Nor can it be any exag- 
geration to suppose, that in these unborn ages, illu- 
mined by a truth — now alas ! too dimly perceived — 
the class of warriors and conquerors, of which these are 
the prominent types, shall become extinct ; like the 
gigantic land reptiles, and monster crocodilians, which 
belonged to a departed period of zoological history. 

Assuming the Unity of Mankind, and their Indefinite 
Future on earth, it becomes easy to anticipate triumphs 
of Progress, which else would seem impossible. Few 
will question that man, as an individual, is capable of 
indefinite improvement, so long as he lives. This 
capacity is inborn. There is none so poor as not to 
possess it. Even the idiot, so abject in condition, is 
found at last to be within the sphere of education. Cir- 
cumstances alone are required to call this capacity into 
action ; and in proportion as knowledge, virtue, and 



ITS CHARACTER AND VINDICATION. 893 

religion prevail in a community, will that sacred atmos- 
phere be diffused, under whose genial influence, the 
most forlorn shall grow into forms of unimagined 
strength and beauty. This capacity for indefinite im- 
provement, which belongs to each individual, must 
belong also to society ; for society does not die, and 
through the improvement of its individuals, it has the 
assurance of its own advance. It is immortal on earth, 
and will constantly gather new and richer fruits from 
the successive generations, as they stretch through un- 
known time. To Chinese vision, the period of the 
present may always seem barren, but it is sure to yield 
its contribution to the indefinite accumulations, which 
are the token of an indefinite Progress. 

Figures speak sometimes as words cannot speak. 
Let me illustrate, then, in one aspect only, by the 
statistics of life, the capacity for improvement in the 
Human Race. Could Descartes, that seer of science, 
now revisit this place of his comprehensive labors and 
divine aspirations, he might well be astonished to know 
the present fulfillment — in so short a period of the life 
of Humanity — of his glowing anticipations, uttered a 
little more than two centuries ago, of the improved 
health and life of men. The following table, compiled 
from authentic sources, shows that even the conqueror 
Death has been slowly driven back, and his inevitable 
triumph at least postponed. 

Table showing- the Diminution of Mortality in Countries. 

Deaths in Ens^land, in 1690, 1 in 33 . . . in 1S43, 1 in 47 

" France, ni 177G, 1 in 25-^ . . in 1848, 1 m 42 

" Germany, in 1788, I in 32 . . . in 1848, 1 in 40 

" Sweden, in 1700.. 1 in 34 . . . in 1848, 1 in 41 

" Roman States, . . in 1767, 1 in 21^ . . in 1329, 1 in 23 



394 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

Diminution of Mortality in Cities. 

Deaths in London, in 1690, 1 in 24 ... in 1844, 1 in 44 

" Paris, in 1650, 1 in 25 ... in 1329, 1 in 32 

" Berlin, in 1755, 1 in 28 . . . in 1827, 1 in 34 

" Vienna, in 1750, I in 20 ... in 1329, 1 in 25 

" Rome, in 1770, I in 21 . . . in 1S23, I in 31 

" Geneva, in 1560, 1 in 18 ... in 1321, I in 40 

Look at the cradles of the nations and races which 
have risen to grandeur, and learn from the barbarous 
wretchedness by which they were originally surrounded, 
that no lot can be removed from the influence of the 
Law of Progress. The Feejee Islander, the Bushman, 
the Hottentot, the Congo negro, cannot be too low for 
its care. No term of imagined " finality " can arrest 
it. The polished Briton, whose civilization we now 
admire, is a descendant, perhaps, of one of those paint- 
ed barbarians, whose degradation still lives in the pages 
of Julius CcEsar. Slowly and by degrees, he has 
reached the position where he now stands ; but he can- 
not be stayed here. The improvement of the Past is 
the earnest of still further improvement in the long 
ages of the Future. And who can doubt, that, in the 
lapse of time, as the Christian Law is gradually fulfilled, 
the elevation which the Briton may attain will be shared 
by all his fellow-men } 

The signs of improvement may appear at a special 
period — in a limited circle only — among the people, 
favored of God, who have enjoyed the peculiar benefits 
of commerce and of Christianity ; but the blessed influ- 
ence cannot be restrained to any time, to any place, 
or to any people. Every victory over evil redounds to 
the benefit of all. Every discovery, every humane 



ITS CHARACTER AND YINDICATIOxX. 395 

thought, every truth, when declared, is a conquest of 
which the whole human family are partakers. It ex- 
tends by so much their dominion, while it lessens by 
so much the sphere of their future struggles and trials. 
Thus it is, while nature is always the same, the power 
of Man is ever increasing. Each day gives him some 
new advantage. The mountains have not grown in 
size ; but man has broken through their passes. The 
winds and waves are capricious ever, as when they first 
beat upon the ancient Silurian rocks ; but the steamboat, 

Against the wind; against the tide, 
Now steadies on with upright keel. 

The distance between two places upon the surface of the 
globe is the same to-day, as when the continents were 
first heaved from their ocean bed ; but the inhabitants 
can now, by the art of man, commune together. IMuch 
still remains to be done ; but the Creator did not speak 
in vain, when he blessed his earliest children, and bade 
them " to multiply, and replenish the earth, and sub- 
due it.'*'' 

But there shall be nobler triumphs than any over 
inanimate nature. Man himself shall be subdued — 
subdued to abhorrence of vice, of injustice, of violence 
— subdued to the sweet charities of life — subdued to 
all the requirements of duly and religion — subdued, 
according to the Law of Human Progress, to the 
recognition of that Gospel law, by the side of which 
the first is as the scaffolding upon the sacred temple, 
the Law of Human Brotherhood. To labor for this end 
was man sent forth into the world ; not in the listless- 
ness of idle perfections, but endowed with infinite ca- 
pacities, inspired by infinite desires, and commanded to 



396 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

Strive perpetually after excellence — amidst the en- 
couragements of hope, the promises of final success, 
and the inexpressible delights which spring from its 
pursuit. Thus does the Law of Human Progress 

assert eternal Providence, 

And justify the ways of God to men, 

by showing Evil no longer as a gloomy mystery, bind- 
ing the world in everlasting thrall, but as an accident, 
destined, under the Laws of God, to be slowly subdued 
by the works of men, as they press on to the promised 
goal of happiness. 

But while recognizing Humanity as progressive, it is 
important to consider a condition or limitation of this 
Law, which may justly temper the ardors of the refor- 
mer. Nothing is accomplished except by time and 
exertion. Nature abhors violence and suddenness. 
She does every thing slowly and by degrees. It is 
some time before the seed grows into the " bright con- 
summate flower." It is many years before the slender 
twig grows into the tree. It is slowly that we pass from 
infancy and imbecility to manhood and strength. And 
when we have arrived at this stage, we are still subject 
to the same condition of nature. * A new temperature, 
or a sudden stroke of light may shock us. Our frames 
are not made for extremes ; so that death may come, 
according to the poet's conceit, " in aromatic pain." 

Gradual change is a necessary condition of the Law 
of Progress. It is only, according to the poetical 
phrase of Tacitus — per intervalla ac sfir amenta tem- 
porum — by intervals and breathings of time, that we 
can hope to make a sure advance. Men grow and are 



TRUE CONSERVATISM. 397 

trained in knowledge and in virtue ; but they cannot be 
compelled into this path. This consideration teaches 
candor and charity towards all who do not yet see the 
truth as we do. It admonishes us also, while keeping 
our eyes steadfast on the good which we seek to se- 
cure, to moderate our expectations, and to be content 
to see the day of triumph postponed. 

It is this essential condition of the Law of Progress, 
that serves to reconcile movement with stability, and to 
preserve order even in change ; as in nature all pro- 
jectile forces are checked and regulated by the law of 
inertia, and the centrifugal motion of tlie planets is 
restrained by the attraction of gravitation. In this 
principle of moderation, honestly pursued, from motives 
of justice and benevolence, and promising " the well- 
ripened fruits of wise delay," we may find a proper 
Conservatism, which, though it may not always satisfy 
our judgment, can never fail to secure our respect. 

But there is another Conservatism — and in the treat- 
ment of the subject it becomes necessary for me to 
exhibit it — of a widely different character, which per- 
forms no good office, and cannot secure our respect. 
Child of indifference, of ignorance, of prejudice, of sel- 
fishness, it seeks to maintain things precisely as they 
are, deprecates every change, and in disregard of tlie 
transitory condition of all that proceeds from the hands 
of man, blindly prays for the 'peiyetuity of existing 
institutions. In its influences it is productive of disor- 
der, rather than of order, and, indeed, is destructive 
rather than justly conservative. In violation of the Law 
of Progress, it plants itself upon the ancient ways, and 
vainly exalts all that has been done by our ancestors 



398 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

as beyond addition and above amendment. It is well 
illustrated in the early verses: 

Some ther be that do defj'e 

All that is newe, and ever do crye 

The old is belter, awaye with the newe * 

Because it is false and the old is true. 

And again, in the conversation between two eminent 
English ecclesiastics ; " Brother of Winchester," said 
Cranmer to Lord Chancellor Gardyner, " you like not 
any thing new unless you be yourself the author of it." 
" Your Grace wrongeth me," replied the destructive 
Conservative, " I have never been author yet of any 
one new thing, for which I thank my God." * Such a 
conservatism is the bigotry of science, of literature, of 
jurisprudence, of religion, of politics. An example 
will best exhibit its character. 

When Sir Samuel Romilly proposed to abolish the 
punishment of death for stealing a pocket-handkerchief, 
the Commons of England consulted certain officials of 
the law, who assured the House, that such an innova- 
tion would endanger the whole criminal law of the land ! 
And when this illustrious reformer and model lawyer 
(for all men in the history of the English law Romilly 
is most truly the model lawyer) afterwards proposed to 
abolish the obscene punishment for high treason, re- 
quiring the offender to be drawn and quartered, and his 
bowels to be thrown into his face, while his body yet 
palpitated whh life, the Attorney-general of the day, in 
opposing this huiTiane amendment, asked, " Are the 
safeguards, the ancient landnaarks, the bulwarks of the 

* Campbell's Lives of the Chancellors, Vol.11, cap. 40, p. 51. 



DESTRUCTIVE CONSERVATISM. 



399 



Constitution to be thus hastily removed r '' Which 
gave occasion for the appropriate exclamation in reply, 
" What ! to throw the bowels of an offender into his 
face, one of the safeguards of the British Constitution ! 
I ought to confess that until this night I was wholly 
ignorant of this bulwark ! " * An irrational enormity, 
which finds a fit parallel only in our own country — 
where slavery is sometimes called a " divine institu- 
tion," and important to the stability of our Consti- 
tution ! 

Esto perpetua was the dying conservative ejaculation 
of Paul Sarpi, of Venice, over the constitution of that 
atrocious republic ; and this same phrase has been 
since applied by Sir William Blackstone to the British 
Constitution, enfolding so many inequalities, and so 
many abuses It were well — and all must agree in 
this — to exclaim of Truth, of Justice, of Peace, of 
Freedom, mai/ it he perpetual! But is it not irrational 
to claim this for any institutions of human device, and, 
of course, finite ? How can they hope to provide for 
the Infinite Future ! The finite cannot measure itself 
with the Infinite. Nothing from Man's hands — nor 
laws nor constitutions — can be perpetual. It is God 
alone who builds for eternity. His laws are ever- 
lasting. 

It is this pernicious prejudice, which has been the 
fruitful parent of the persecution and neglect, that has 
been the lot of too many of the discoverers of truth. 
Among the ancient Greeks, they who first assigned the 
natural causes of thunder and storms, while the ears of 

* Essays of Basil Montagu, p. 69. 



400 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGKESS. 

men were still unaccustomed to such explanations, were 
condemned by the conservative savages of that day for 
impiety to the gods. In the eighth century, an ignorant, 
conservative Pope persecuted a priest, who declared 
that the world was round. And at a later day, to the 
everlasting scandal of mankind, the book of Copernicus, 
unfolding the true system of the universe, was con- 
demned, as heretical and false, by a conservative Papal 
bull ; and Galileo, after announcing the annual and 
diurnal motions of the earth, was sentenced to the dun- 
geons of the conservative Inquisition. This was in 
Italy ; but in England — and here we come nearer home 
— Harvey v/as accustomed to say, that after the publi- 
cation of his book on the circulation of the blood — one 
of the great epochs of modern discovery — " he fell 
mightily in his practice, and it was believed by the 
vulgar that he was crack-brained, and all the physicians 
were against his opinion." * And on another occasion, 
he is reported to have declared that no persons older 
than forty, at the time of his discovery, received it as 
true. In short, the age of forty was a dividing line of 
life — a Mason and Dixon's line! — determining the 
capacity to receive that truth. Surely this little story 
may well admonish all who have passed that conserva- 
tive line to be careful how they are inhospitable to any 
new truth. 

This same undue tenacity of existing things, and 
repugnance to what is new, has thrown impediments 
successively in the way of the great improvements by 
which travel and intercourse among men have been 
promoted. It might be supposed that stage-coaches, 

* Aubrey's Letters and Lives, Vol. IL p. 333. 



DESTRUCTIVE CONSERVATISM. 401 

when first introduced into England, would have been 
welcome, though novel, as an undoubted aid to the 
comfort of men. But this was not universally the case. 
An early writer calls for their suppression, breaking 
forth against them in this wise : '' These coaches," he 
says, " are one of the greatest mischiefs that hath hap- 
pened of late years to the kingdom — mischievous to 
the public, destructive to trade, and prejudicial to lands. 
First, by destroying the breed of good horses, the 
strength of the nation, and making men careless of 
attaining to good horsemanship, a thing so useful and 
commendable in a gentleman ; for, hereby, they be- 
come weary and listless when they ride a few miles, 
and unwilling to get on horseback, not able to endure 
frost, snow, or rain, or to lodge in the fields ; and what 
reason, save only their using themselves so tenderly, 
and then riding in these stage-coaches, can be given 
for this their inability? Secondly, by hindering the 
breed of watermen, who are the nursery for seamen, 
and they the bulwark of the kingdom ; for if these 
coaches were down, watermen, as formerly, would 
have work, and be encouraged to take apprentices, 
whereby their number would every year greatly in- 
crease. Thirdly, by lessening of his majesty's reve- 
nues ; now four or five travel in a coach together, 
without any servants, and it is they that occasion the 
consumption of beer and ale on the roads, and all inn- 
keepers do declare, that they sell not half the drink, 
nor pay the king half the excise they did before these 
coaches set up." * Such was the conservative bill of 

* Harleian Miscellany, Vol. VIII. pp. 32-35; (ed. 8vo. 1810;) 
The Grand Concern of England, 1673. 
VOL. I. 26 



402 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

indictment against stage-coaches. But the history of 
canals, of steamboats, and lastly of railways, shows the 
existence of similar prejudices. Even Mr. Jefferson, 
(and I cannot mention him as an immoderate conserva- 
tive,) when told that the State of New York had ex- 
plored the route of a canal from the Hudson to Lake 
Erie, and found it practicable — that same canal 
which now, like a thread of silver, winds its way 
through your imperial State — replied that " it was a 
very fine project, and might be executed a century 
hence." It is related that the Greenwich pensioners, 
on first seeing the steamboat upon the waters of the 
Thames, as they looked out from their palatial home, 
said, " We do not like the steamboat ; it is so contrary 
to nature." In our own country, Fitch early brought 
forward the idea of a steamboat amidst ill-disguised 
sneers ; and at a later day, Fulton, while building his 
first steamboat at New York, was viewed with indiffer- 
ence, or with contempt, as a visionary ; and when at 
last, he had accomplished the long distance to Albany, 
distrust of the Future still held the public mind, and 
it was doubted if the voyage could be accomplished 
again, or, if done, it was doubted if the invention could 
be made of any permanent value. Thus did this evil 
spirit perplex the noble aims of these beneficent dis- 
coverers ! And in England, almost within our own 
day, as late as 1825, railways were pronounced ''alto- 
gether delusions and impositions," and the conservative 
Quarterly Revieio^ alluding to the opinion of certain 
engineers that the railway engine could go eighteen or 
twenty miles an hour, says : " These gross exaggera- 
tions may delude for a time, but must end in the morti- 



DESTRUCTIVE CONSERVATISM. 403 

fication of those concerned. We should as soon expect 
the people of Woolwich to suffer thennselves to be 
fired off upon one of Congreve's ricochet rockets, as 
trust themselves to the mercy of such a machine, going 
at such a T»ate." * 

It is related that the Arve, a river of Switzerland, 
swollen by floods, sometimes drives the waters of the 
Rhone back into the Lake of Geneva ; and it once 
happened that the force was so great as to make the 
mill-w^heels revolve in a contrary direction. There 
seem not a few in the world, who, by their efforts, 
would cause the stream to flow back upon the fountain, 
and even make the mill-wheels revolve in a contrary 
direction. 

But unhappily, this same bigotry — conservatism if 
you will — which has blindly opposed improvements in 
physical comforts, has set its face more passionately 

* Quarterly Review, Vol. XXXI. p. 361. The illustrations of 
this spirit might he indefinitely extended. There is one, that has 
heen made familiar to the world, liy Mr. Macaulay's History, since 
this Address was delivered, wiiich has too much point to be omitted. 
As late as the close of the reign of Charles II., the streets of London, 
with a population of half a million, were not lighted at night, and, 
as a natural consequence, became the frequent scene of assassina- 
tions and outrages of all kinds, perpetrated under the shelter of dark- 
ness. At last, in 16S5, it was proposed to place a light before every 
tenth door, on moonless nights. This projected improvement was 
enthusiastically applauded and furiously attacked. " The cause of 
darkness," says Mr. Macaulay, " was not left undefended. There 
were fools in that age who opposed the introduction of what was 
called the new light, as strenuously as fools of our age have opposed 
the introduction of vaccination and railroads, as strenuously as the 
fools of an age anterior to the dawn of history doubtless opposed the 
introduction of the plough and of alphabetical writing." — History 
of England, cap. 3. 



404 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

Still against many of those movements whose direct ob- 
ject has been the elevation of the race. In all times 
and places you have persecuted the prophets, and 
stoned those who have been sent to you. Of the pro- 
fessors of this conservatism, Milton has pictured the 
boldest type in Satan, who, knowing well the sins and 
offences of mortals, would keep them ever in their 
present condition ; holding them fast in their degrada- 
tion ; binding them in perpetual slavery ; nor indulg- 
ing in any aspiration, except of long dominion over a 
captive race, whose sorrows and hopes cannot touch 
his impenetrable soul. From a sketch by another 
hand, we may learn something of the activity of this 
character. With an honest plainness, characteristic of 
himself and his age, the early English prelate, Latimer, 
says in one of his sermons, " the Devil is the most dili- 
gentest bishop and preacher in all England." Surely 
it might be said with equal truth, — and none will ques- 
tion it, — that he is the busiest and most offensive Con- 
servative. 

Time would fail me to dwell on the ample illustra- 
tions of this influence. One world-renowned example 
shall suffice. The early efforts, in England, for the 
overthrow of the gigantic crime of the slave trade, were 
encountered by an enmity, which seemed to partake of 
the bad passions of the crime itself. In Liverpool, the 
excited slave-traders threatened to throw Clarkson into 
the sea. But the heart of the nation was gradually 
touched, until at last the people of England demanded 
the abolition of this foul traffic. 

Thus has Truth ever moved on — though opposed 
and reviled, still mighty and triumphant. Rejected 



DUTIES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS. 405 

often by the rich and powerful, by the favorites of for- 
tune and of place, she finds shelter with the poor and 
lowly. Let it be said boldly, it is such as these that 
most freely welcome moral truth, in its immediate ap- 
plication to the concerns of life. It is the humble and 
retired, not the dwellers amidst the glare of the world, 
who most clearly perceive this truth ; as the watchers, 
placed in the depths of a well, may observe the stars 
which are obscured to those who live in the effulgence 
of noon. Free from the prejudices of self-interest, or 
of a class, — free from the cares and temptations of 
wealth, or of power — dwelling in the mediocrity of 
common life, in seclusion, or obscurity — they discern 
the new signal, they surrender themselves unreservedly 
to the new summons. The Saviour knew this. He 
did not call upon the Priest, or Levite, or Pharisee, to 
follow him ; but upon the humble fisherman by the sea 
of Galilee. 

Let us then be of good cheer. From the great Law 
of Progress we may derive at once our duties and our 
encouragements. Humanity has ever advanced, urged 
by the instincts and necessities implanted by God — 
thwarted sometimes by obstacles, which have caused it 
for a time, — a moment only, in the immensity of 
ages, — to deviate from its true line, or to seem to 
retreat, — but still ever onward. At last we know the 
Law of this movement ; we fasten our eyes upon that 
star unobserved in the earlier ages, which lights the 
way to the Future, opening into vistas of infinite variety 
and extension. Amidst the disappointments which may 
attend individual exertions, amidst the universal agita- 



406 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

tions which now surround us, let us recognize this Law, 
let us follow this star — confident that whatever is just, 
whatever is humane, whatever is good, whatever is true, 
according to an immutable ordinance of Providence, in 
the golden light of the Future, must prevail. With this 
faith, let us place our hands, as those of little children, 
in the great hand of God. He will ever guide and 
sustain us — through pains and perils it may be — 
in the path of Progress. 

In the recognition of this Law, there are motives to 
beneficent activity, which shall endure to the last sylla- 
ble of life. Let the young embrace it; they shall find 
in it an ever-living spring. Let the old cherish it still ; 
they shall derive from it fresh encouragement. It 
shall give to all, both old and young, a new apprecia- 
tion of their existence, a new sentiment of their force, 
a new revelation of their destiny. It shall be as another 
covenant, witnessed by the bow in the heavens, not only 
that no honest, earnest effort for the welfare of man can 
be in vain ; but that it shall send its quickening influence 
through the uncounted ages before us, and contribute 
to the coming of that blessed Future of Intelligence, of 
Peace, of Freedom, which we would now fain secure 
for ourselves, but cannot. And though not in our own 
persons the partakers of these brighter days, ours may 
be the pleasure at least of foreseeing them, of enjoying 
them in advance, or the satisfaction sweeter still of 
hastening by some moments the too distant epoch. 

A life filled by this thought shall have comforts and 
consolations, which else were unknown. In the flush 
of youthful ambition, in the self-confidence of success, 
we may be indifferent to the calls of Humanity i but 



DUTIES AND ENCOURAGEIMENTS. 407 

history, reason, and religion, all speak in vain, if any 
selfish works — not helping the Progress of Mankind — 
although favored by worldly smiles, can secure that hap- 
piness and content which all covet as the crown of life. 
Look at the last days of Prince Talleyrand, and learn 
the wretchedness of an old age, which was enlightened 
by no memory of generous toils, by no cheerful hope 
for his fellow-men. Then, when the imbecilities of ex- 
istence rendered him no longer able to grasp power, 
or to hold the threads of intrigue, he surrendered him- 
self to discouragement and despair. By the light of a 
lamp which he trimmed in his solitude, he traced these 
lines — the most melancholy lines overwritten by an 
old man ; — think of them, politician ! — " Eighty-three 
years of life are now passed ! filled with what anxieties ! 
what agitations ! what enmities ! what troublous com- 
plexhies ! And all this toith no other result than a 
great fatigue, physical and moral, and a profound 
sentiment of discouragement with regard to the Future, 
and of disgust for the Pasty * Poor old man ! Poor 
indeed ! In his loneliness, in his failing age, with 
death waiting at his palace gates, what to him were 
the pomps he had enjoyed ! What were titles ! What 
were offices ! What was the lavish wealth in which 
he lived ! More precious far at that moment would 
have been the consolation, that he had labored for his 
fellow-men, and the joyous confidence that all his cares 
had helped the Progress of his race. 

Be it, then, our duty and our encouragement to live 
and to labor, ever mindful of the Future. But let us 

* Louis Blanc, Histoire de Dix Ans. Tom. v. cap. 10. 



403 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

not for";et the Past. All aires have lived and labored 
for US. From one has come art; from another juris- 
prudence ; from another the compass ; from another 
the printing-press ; from all have proceeded priceless 
lessons of truth and virtue. The earliest and most dis- 
tant times are not without a present influence on our 
daily lives. The mighty stream of Progress, though 
fed by many tributary waters and hidden springs, de- 
rives something of its force from the earlier currents 
which leap and sparkle in the distant mountain re- 
cesses, over precipices, among rapids, and beneath the 
shade of the primeval forest. 

Nor should we be too impatient to witness the fulfill- 
ment of our aspirations. The daily increasing rapidity 
of discovery and improvement, and the daily multiply- 
ing efforts of beneficence, in later years outstripping 
the imasrinations of the most sanguine, furnish well- 
grounded assurance that the advance of man will be 
with a constantly accelerating speed. The extending 
intercourse among the nations of the earth, and among 
all the children of the Human Family, gives new prom- 
ises of the complete diffusion of Truth, penetrating the 
most distant places, chasing away the darkness of 
night, and exposing the hideous forms of Slavery, of 
War, of Wrong, which must be hated as soon as they 
are clearly seen. And yet, while confident of the 
Future and surrounded by heralds of certain triumph, 
let us learn to moderate our anticipations ; nor imitate 
those children of the Crusaders, who, in their long 
journey from Western Europe, 



to seek 



la Golgotha him dead, who lives in Heaven, 



DUTIES AND ENCOURAGEMENTS. 409 

hailed each city and castle which they approached, as 
the Jerusalem that was to be the end of their wander- 
ings. No ; the goal is distant, and ever advancing ; but 
the march is none the less certain. As well attempt 
to make the sun stand still in his course, or to restrain 
the sweet influences of the Pleiades, as to arrest the 
incessant, irresistible movement, which is the appointed 
destiny of man. 

Cultivate, then, a just moderation. Learn to recon- 
cile order with change, stability with Progress. This 
is a wise conservatism ; this is a wise reform. Rightly 
understanding these terms, who would not be a con- 
servative ? Who would not be a reformer ? A con- 
servative of all that is good — a reformer of all that is 
evil; a conservative of knowledge — a reformer of ig- 
norance ; a conservative of truths and principles, whose 
seat is the bosom of God — a reformer of laws and in- 
stitutions which are but the wicked or imperfect work 
of man ; a conservative of that divine order which is 
found only in movement — a reformer of those earthly 
wrongs and abuses, which spring from a violation of the 
great Law of Human Progress. Blending these two 
characters in one, let us seek to be, at the same time, 
Reforming Conservatives and Conservative Reformers. 

And, finally, let a confidence in the Progress of our 
race be, under God, our constant faith. Let the senti- 
ment of loyalty, earth-born, which once lavished itself 
on King or Emperor, give place to that other senti- 
ment, heaven-born, of devotion to Humanity. Let 
Loyalty to one Man be exchanged for Love to Man. 
And be it our privilege to extend these sacred influ- 

voL. I. 27 



410 THE LAW OF HUMAN PROGRESS. 

ences throughout the land. So shall we Open to our 
country new fields of peaceful victories, which shall 
not want the sympathies and gratulations of the good 
citizen, or the praises of the just historian. Go forth, 
then, my country, " conquering and to conquer," not 
by brutish violence ; not by force of arms ; not, oh ! 
not, on dishonest fields of blood ; but in the majesty of 
Peace, of Justice, of Freedom, by the irresistible might 
of Christian Institutions. 



END OF VOLUME 



